


Through Traitorous  Eyes

by nouvellelune, PepperJam



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Yiga Clan, Collaboration, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Headcanon, Pre-Calamity (Legend of Zelda), Yiga Clan is a cult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nouvellelune/pseuds/nouvellelune, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperJam/pseuds/PepperJam
Summary: Hylia has an odd sense of humor.He was born to the shadows, raised to worship the incarnation of hatred and darkness. He was meant to kill the descendant of the Goddess, the one who had yet to wield her sacred magic.All in the name of Ganon, the master, his mother and father.He would find and kill her hero, whoever he may be.Yes, whoever he may be.
Relationships: Link/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 161





	1. Chapter 1

The cold of the Gerudo Highlands should have claimed Link hours ago, but under his hardened skin, he felt nothing. The frigid wind was nothing more than a playful kiss on his cheek, yet it wasn’t enough to bring a smile to his lips. It had been silent all morning, not even the snow under his trained feet crunching with his step. To the world around him, he was a phantom, shifting through and leaving not a footprint behind. Some may call it peaceful, but as he sent a puff of cold breath out with a sigh, he couldn’t feel more disappointed. 

He had been out hunting all day, but he hadn’t encountered so much as a quail. Earlier, he had thought it wise to skip out on breakfast to get a headstart, but the beasts were nowhere to be found, and his stomach was beginning to twist. He gave a small frown and stroked his abdomen, unable to come up with consoling words for himself. He may have to consider the edibility of tree bark. 

A tickle at his leg made him stop in his tracks. He looked down hopefully, his frown turning into a grin when he saw what he had trudged right into. Red, plump wild berries beckoned to him from their place within the bush. He squatted immediately, thrusting his hand inside without any regard for the thorns within. They scraped harmlessly against his gloves, leaving the berries ripe for the picking. He gathered them as quickly as he could, glancing over his shoulder every so often in the chance of an attack, but nothing ever came. Not yet. His knees pinched as straightened himself up again, palms full of the berries. It would stave off the hunger, but not forever. Just enough time to complete his mission.

He resumed his walk up the Highlands, taking a route with high frozen walls while popping a berry into his mouth, chewing gratefully. It exploded in a burst of slush and sugar under his tongue, nearly making his teeth chatter. Nearly. Link had eaten enough of them to last a century and was well on his way to becoming immune to their cold flavor. It took a strong clench of his jaw to stop the cold ache in his head, though. For a moment in time, all that existed was his berries and the silent song of the mountains. He could only wish that it were just as empty.

The silence was disturbed.

Link froze. His whole body tensed his ears on their highest guard. For a millisecond, he thought it was just the wind. A distant flurry whipping up some snow. Utterly harmless. It was getting closer though, and rapidly. There was a red flash in his peripheral, and he had all but a second to drop to the ground as a sickle came for his head. 

The berries fell discarded as he landed hard on his back, breath leaving him in a swift punch. The sickle spiraled through the air, lodging itself in the rocky mountain wall before falling still. Link had no time for shock. He rolled over in a heartbeat, his face stinging at the touch of snow, but just in time to avoid the Yiga soldier that launched himself off the opposing snow shelf. 

The Yiga landed hard, inches away from where Link had been laying moments before. Had he remained, the sharp spikes on the soldier’s cleats would’ve surely pierced his skull. For the briefest interval, the two disregarded each other. The Yiga gripped his lodged sickle and pulled hard, chunks of rock flying as he pulled it free. 

Link shuffled a few steps away, kicking up snow and dirt. The hunt had commenced, and his eyes never left his kin as he pulled out a sickle of his own.

He didn’t have time for the first move. The maskless Yiga took a swipe at his face, missing his nose by inches. Link crouched and backed up the slope, his fingers grazing the ground in an attempt to keep balance. His sickle was bared at his side, a warning to any who sought to approach. The Yiga didn’t take it. 

The combatant’s sickle jumped from hand to hand as he evaluated Link’s position, red eyes flicking about to every possible opening. Now Link had a chance to see who his opponent was. His stark white hair was stringy from the tight traditional buns, bleeding cuts on his face glistened in the dim light. Teeth bared like a starving wolf; not for food, but for glory. 

Finally, this wolf made a move. A simple swipe downward, the point of the scythe aiming for Link once more. It was easily countered, as Link caught and twisted it out of his hand. However, the Yiga seemed to be ready for that, he rolled his body with Link’s tug, unhooking his blade, it remaining in his clutch. 

Link caught the opponent’s rage as his eyes grew evermore wild. He was truly a wolf as he spat into the snow, meeting a flat expression with white fangs. Again, he flitted, searching for any advantage he could pull to eliminate just another contender, ever close to wearing true sight’s mask. Maybe then, he’ll no longer be a predator.

So began a flurry of attacks, pushing Link into the defensive as he blocked every blow at the last second. It went on for an eternity as the wind shrieked and cheered, excited as the fight intensified, bringing Link closer to defeat. The Yiga’s strikes were clear to maim, strong and swift, as he aimed for the neck, the arms, the legs. To lacerate, to cripple, to humiliate.

_The eyes always tell the truth._

Mother’s voice ranged often, her words ranged true. Link’s challenger suddenly broke his continuous assault, backflipping to space the two out. His feet sunk into the snow, attempting to circle him. The pair’s eyes were locked, red and blue, but both equally desperate for the prize. The wind died down, its boredom evident as the battle went to a standstill.

Then finally, his fatal mistake.

He threw his weapon to his right hand, his manic eyes flitted right. 

_Oldest trick in the book._

A sudden dive left, weapon angled to slice up Link’s entire side. Such an obvious tactic, the first one as Yiga learns. 

Link threw his sickle into his other hand, his left grabbing the combatant’s wrist. His eyes flew wide for a moment as the grasp tightened, but not long enough to truly realize. Link snapped his hand forward, twisting it harshly. A howl of pain escaped him and the sickle fell softly into the pillowy snow. But that wasn’t enough. Link needed one less contender. 

He drove his elbow into the Yiga’s abdomen, and as he doubled over, brought a swift kick to his head. Finally, his ruby eyes dulled as the pain overwhelmed his mind. Link held still for a moment as his former rival laid motionless in the snow, bile building up as seconds ticked by. Fortunately, he rolled over, eyelids fluttering as he groaned, clutching his stomach and head. He had been knocked out, and yet the true prize was still up above.

Yet no matter how hard one must push themself, Link could feel his body’s cries. He had to tend to them even for just a moment. The frozen air-filled and emptied his lungs in short succession, in out and in out. He could feel his vision blur a bit, the sudden rush of adrenaline disappearing as soon as it came, wrapping his mind in a thick wool.  
Though his stomach craved every Yiga’s weakness, he only had the berries to satiate his growling stomach. Their sharp, almost sour juice jolted his eyes, the drooping eyelids standing to attention, and his chest opened up further. His fingers were numbed by the snow and his cheeks red as blood, but he had to move forward. Just a little bit more.

Digging his nails into the cliffside, Link began to scale Zirco Mesa. Now, it was all but silent. Even the wind kept quiet, anxious to see where this would go. Both a gratifying and terrifying proposition. It had been hours since the rite had begun, and that meant he could only have one more kin to face. That kin would be the most skilled of them all.

Such thoughts brought his hands and feet to climb faster, further up the orange stone. Snow drifted. The cold air stung. Silence rang. A cry of agony sounded, echoing through the highlands.

It was on the other side of the mesa. 

Eyebrows knitted together, almost fusing as Link brought his aching arms faster up the cliffside. If he could grab the mask and defeat who this was, then surely, it would be over, and he would win, the mask would his to bear. He would be just like Mother, and he would finally be able to accomplish what Master Cadraz desired. 

Whoever was left, they must be the last of the competition. No matter who it was, they had to lose. 

The top of Zirco had finally appeared, and relief flooded through Link. His arms were numb, but alas rest was as far as the unseen sun. He turned heel towards the very peak of the mesa, where it faced the east opening of the hideout. There, on a pole, as an opening in the clouds passed by the sun. Gleaming white, streaks of red. The mask of true sight. The mask of victory.  
Willing his body just a little further, Link climbed the last level of the formation. He nearly took one step forward, when a red glove clawed as it reached for the peak. 

Pulling itself up, an impeccable white bun appeared, followed by a familiar face. 

She had settled herself onto the clifftop, dusting off the snow and brandishing a duplex bow. She gave off a huff, then spotted Link. At first, it was merely a friendly grin, then a snort. 

“Keeping up this silent charade, aren’t we?” Riklah chided. 

He didn’t respond, face as blank and frozen as the terrain around them. His old rival waited a few moments with her arms crossed, tapping a finger on her armor before filling the silence with another laugh.

“Don’t look at me like that.” She reached out to flick him, but only met open air as Link took a great step back. “Really? I’m just messing around, you know.”

“Not the time.” He finally said, brows furrowed in no more than annoyance. Riklah sighed and kicked a mound of snow off the cliffside, watching it plume out as it fell below. 

“Is it ever the time with you?” She moseyed around the elephant of the room, stepping to the edge and looking to the white sun in the noon sky. He allowed his eyes to drift downward for a moment, catching the red gleam on her sheathed weapon. Riklah was an accomplished marksman, but her hand to hand was nothing to underestimate either. It appeared someone else hadn’t heeded this, as her sickle was soaked to the hilt in another’s blood. When he looked back up, she was watching him from over her shoulder with a smirk. “Before you ask, I have been quite busy today. They just wouldn’t stop coming. It’s almost like I’m a target or something. You?”

Link wished he had his sickle in hand, but it was tucked away in his belt. Utterly harmless. In the time he could reach it, Riklah would already be upon him. And she was not one to spare a life. 

“Only one.” He decided to speak. “By the shrine.”

“Well? You kill him?” Her face had lightened up at the mention of combat. Link frowned at her excitement, remembering just exactly why he had been actively avoiding her. 

“No. Why would I?” 

“Doesn’t hurt to make sure.” She shrugged and slid her own weapon out to admire it in the sun. “Of course, I couldn’t bring myself to do so either against my own kin. It goes without saying that I didn’t leave them completely unscathed, just roughed up enough that I knew I wouldn’t be followed.”

She tilted her blade so that Link’s reflection was trapped inside and she narrowed her eyes at his mostly blank expression. “I just assumed killing a fellow Yiga would be easy for you.”

His fingers twitched, eager to wrap around the grip of a sickle, but his arm didn’t allow it. He needed to remain defensive. She was prodding him, trying to get a reaction so she could play defensively, spitting on the name of his father. 

“I’m just as much a Yiga as you are, Riklah.” He said, struggling to remain cordial. 

“Mmm… your very blood says different.” Her sickle lowered for a moment as she looked out to the horizon, gazing past the stretches of Hyrule Field. His teeth gritted as he realized what she was looking to. Hyrule Castle, the fortress that sat in the heart of their land. The very emblem of blasphemy. 

“You may have been born here, but that rock is your real home.” She said almost blissfully as if she weren’t trodding on his identity. “I don’t kill Yiga. That’s why I won’t be letting you leave alive. 

Her sickle whipped down and she turned on her heels. Link tensed, bracing for an attack, but no such thing came. She only smiled, half bound hair blowing behind her as the Highland wind tried to sweep her off the cliff.

“So, you or me first?”

The mask. Right. She almost had him forget their whole objective in the first place. He broke eye contact with her to look at the mask on its pedestal, the inverted eye of the Sheikah staring them both down where they stood. In the few seconds he had, he considered his options. He could always let her go first, striking from behind when she wasn’t looking, or he could bolt without another word, only praying that he was able to get his sickle out before she caught up. There was no opportunity to make a decision. 

In an instant, Riklah sliced the back of his knees, the point of her sickle ripping through his leather armor. He choked out a cry as the sting ran up his body and his legs gave out. The bite of the snow as his face slammed into the ground was almost as shocking as the attack; all of his preparation, his monitoring, his defense, all eradicated by a mere distraction. He fully expected her to drive the end of her sickle between his shoulder blades at that point, and he moved to avoid another attack, but Riklah had already darted past. 

Her light steps kicked up no snow as she advanced upon the pedestal, the mask in her grasp within seconds of her attack. As she pressed the mask to her face, Link fought to his feet again, suppressing the urge to fall again. The warmth of his blood running down his calves was like fire amongst the icy mesa, just the spark he needed to avoid the oncoming rush of Riklah’s arrows. 

In seconds she had her duplex bow stretched out, reloading with memorized speed. Link just barely managed to miss each one, the tip of a particularly jagged arrow catching the side of his ear and sending another warm flood down his neck. In the brief heartbeat that Riklah notched another pair of arrows, Link pulled his arm back and threw, his sickle closing the distance between them.

She dropped to her side, the arrows whizzing harmlessly into the open air. The sickle missed its mark as well, landing forgotten clear across Zirco Mesa. Still, it granted him an opportunity. One that passed in a breath.

She sat up to shoot another arrow in a hurry, but Link was already upon her, kicking the bow out of her reach and off the edge of the plateau. With nothing but his hands now, Link reached to swipe the mask from her face. She batted his hand away with a quick chop and shot to her feet again, her sickle twisting into view as she unsheathed it once more. He reached to pull out his own, body breaking out into a hot flash when he remembered where it lay several feet away. 

Riklah had crouched into a typical Yiga stance, shifting from left to right as she scouted out where to strike first. Link slowly lowered into a crouch of his own to shield his front, face cold as he stared into the lifeless eye of the mask. He wished he could see her expression. Was she frightened? Focused? Or was this simply another sparring match to her, nothing to even bat an eye over?

She jumped left, her sickle spinning as she went. Link tried to discreetly inch towards his own, but she caught onto his intentions in an instant. The arch of her blade struck down, lodging itself in the snow as he just barely pulled his hand away. Falling onto his back, he kicked her sternum, sending her reeling with a muffled grunt of shock. He twisted around and reached for his key to victory, but it was still just barely out of reach.

He meant to yell out in frustration, but all that filled his mouth was snow as Riklah kicked him down again from behind. Pressure shifted on his lower back as she hurriedly mounted, pinning him to the ground. There was no time. Link flipped over, using his adrenaline as pure fuel, wheezing slightly as she landed on his stomach. He blinked rapidly, attempting to regain focus, but there was nothing to see but the silhouette of the much taller Yiga above him, holding him down and raising her sickle in a death blow.

_Dear Ganon._

His hands threw up, stopping the blade inches before it dug into his jugular. The cold eye of the Yiga mask bore into him, Riklah’s muffled panting sounding off behind it. Surely she wasn’t serious about killing him? He tapped the side of her hand in a panic, signaling his surrender. But this wasn’t a jest. It was her life's mission to kill the masquerader, the half breed. And now was her moment.

The two of them struggled for all of a few moments, Link pushing upwards with all his strength to keep the blade away while Riklah leaned all her weight against it. His body was hot against the snow, so much so that he didn’t even feel it anymore. He was aflame, and he would melt the sickle with his bare hands if he must. 

She wouldn’t give him a chance to. Her fist came up, only to beat down on the pommel, the tip just barely digging into his throat before he pushed it up again with a shocked cry. The beating didn’t stop, the sickle going lower and lower with each hit. It was only a matter of time. 

Her fist came up a final time, the tip of the sickle now straining against his neck. Link’s eyes shot closed. He took in a breath. The fist fell down.

He ripped the weapon away from her, his two hands stronger than her one. With a startled cry, her fist buried itself into the snow, her body falling forward as it carried the motion. The sickle in hand, Link squirmed out from under her, spinning it into a strike of his own. 

Riklah got to her knees, her white hair whipping around as she whirled to face him. All she was in time for, however, was the bashing of the end of her own sickle across the face, the mask flying off and spinning to a halt on the ground. She followed the momentum of the blow, crumbling in a heap with her hands locked defensively behind her head. The seconds passed slowly, Link’s own winded breaths filling the air as he watched her tremble. Then, almost undetectably, she raised her left hand slightly, quivering. A signal of surrender. 

He let out a heavy breath, wiping the sweat that had surprisingly accumulated on his forehead. He trudged past his rival, digging the mask out from it’s buried place in the snow. Though it had sat on another’s face, as Link settled it over his eyes, he couldn’t help but feel it was made for him. It's mold, its smooth surface, its smell. The Eye of the Yiga truly saw all. His other sickle was quickly swept up by him, both hands now armed and deadly. Though based on the silence all around, he wouldn’t be facing another opponent this rite. He limped slightly over to the pedestal, the cuts on his legs slowly returning as his adrenaline drained.

He stood on the large, flat stone, and mask now in his possession, he raised a sickle to the sky. A testament to his victory.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, this is me, the co writer PepperJam.  
> I’m speaking right now given the new trailer for Age of Calamity showing off the Yiga, I just wanna clarify some things.  
> Already a piece of our writing is made seemingly obsolete, but we came up with a way for our pre-calamity master Cadraz to coexist with Kohga. But with the other new things, like the unnamed special blademaster and the mysterious woman, we obviously don’t know what to do yet due to the little information given.  
> There’s also the fact that many of our headcanons on the Yiga Clan could be disproven as well.  
> Just please remember that this is an _AU_ , with most of its plot and ideas made before we knew much about age of calamity. Of course some things can be tweaked, but for the sake of the story we may ignore canon. We hope you understand.  
> This chapter is mostly just us showing our headcanons on the Yiga and also the OCs we made. Next chapter, some real plot begins. We hope you enjoy.

His basking was cut short, however, as the sound of rustling paper wavered behind him. Prayer slips floated in the frigid breeze as he turned, all marked with the same piercing eye. 

With 3 successive thuds, came a trio of his kin, all masked. Between the two broad-shouldered blademasters was a man of towering stature, easily dwarfing Link and even his two accomplices. Wrapped around his shoulders was a cloak of snow coat fox pelts, matching the yellow earrings and crimson garb. The ultimate mark was his mask; it bore the inverted eye they all donned, but the 6 curved horns protruding from the top truly showed who he was. 

“Master Cadraz,” Link blurted, finally bending to give him the deepest bow he could. He held it for some moments as he could feel the Master’s eyes digging into him beyond the concealment. 

“At ease, young one. Stand up straight.” Master Cadraz said, his hand beckoning upward. Link followed dutifully, still holding him at full attention.

His eyes moved to see where Riklah was, but the Master spoke and brought him back. “Congratulations, son of Luries,” he began, giving a small nod with his same professional voice. “Regardless of how many you fought or how you did it, you are the last one standing, wearing the mask. You understand what this means for your future, of course.”

Link gave another deep bow. “Yes, Master Cadraz.”

“Your family will be very proud, Blademaster Link.” He pressed a fist to his palm with another nod of his chin. “Before I depart and prepare for the ceremony, I ask you; do you hold any resentment to your opponent?”

Cadraz waved a hand, gesturing to Riklah. She was bent on one knee, her head cast down, hiding her face as her hair jostled in the wind. Her hands still trembled ever so slightly as her haggard breathing materialized into a fog. 

She did try to kill him, for something he didn’t choose, for something he can’t control. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even feel a little mad. At least, he kept it under even with the mask hiding everything.

“No, Master Cadraz. I cannot say I do.” Link answered. The two blademasters kept their silence, but one of them seemed to tense a little at his words. Cadraz brought a hand to his chin, humming an affirmative note. 

“...I see.” The master turned to the blade master on his left. “A few words, nothing more. I know how to punish her.”

The blade master stood still for a moment, but then it marched right past Link and Cadraz, a beeline to Riklah’s cowering form. Though the wide stature of the armor blocked her entirely, Link could tell that the blade master had grabbed Riklah by the collar, roughly pulling her to her legs.  
So, a voice rang through.

“Just what were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?” A harsh, berating tone, filled to the brim with rancor and venom. “Did you think you could get away with it? Killing one of your own, killing the son of a blade master? Imagine if you had won, imagine if you drove your sickle into his throat. What. would. _happen?_ ”

A cough. Riklah choked out, “I...I-I, I would-”

“You would be exiled for such homicide, or _executed_ in front of the whole clan. Do you realize that? I would make your mother watch it all. You’re lucky Master Cadraz has such patience and mercy for you. Because I wouldn’t, you sniveling murderer.”

A sniff. “I-I’m not sni-”

“Don’t argue with your superior, young one. You have no right to dissent, much less speak. You-”

“Blademaster Luries, that’s enough.” Cadraz cut the stream of vitriol, his voice breaking it into tranquility. “I will speak to her on my own, with her mother.”

Luries looked to the Master, then back to Riklah. Without a word, she dropped her, making her groan in pain as she clutched her side. Master Cadraz let out a sigh as he stepped towards Riklah, followed by the other blademaster. Luries stepped away with a marching stride, a grip on her hilt so tight it could snap the thing in half.

She stopped in front of Link, fuming and boiling in her fury, but then she breathed out hugely, her shoulders dropping, her sword hand relaxed. The mask and hood was taken off, revealing the face Link loved, a bright smile with gleaming carmine eyes full of pride, and snow-white hair.

“My glorious son,” Luries whispered, holding her arms out. “Words cannot describe how happy I am.”

Before Link could even get his own arms out, Luries smothered him in the blink of an eye. Her arms squeezed him to show the overwhelming amount of pride she felt, so did the intense spinning she did on Zirco’s top. “Oh, my sweet, amazing, talented _son!_ I knew you could do it, there was never any doubt in my mind! Oh, a blademaster just like me, and your grandfather! I wish he would be able to see this moment.”

“Mother, I can’t breathe.” Link blurted.

“Oh!” Luries came to a halt, and let her son go immediately. She giggled, that smile persisting, her eyes still glittering. “I apologize. I was just trying to show you how proud I am of you.” 

Somehow her smile grew wider, and she stepped closer again to cup his cheeks. The warmth of her gloves filled him just as much as her love did. “Blademaster Link. You may hold such an esteemed title soon, but forever you’ll be my little child.”

At times like these, Link was glad he wasn’t so expressive as her. 

“Ah, so flat and blank, just like your father. Can’t I get the tiniest of smiles? Like when you’re little?” 

Luries chuckled again. “Then again, you look just like him.” 

Link put a hand to his chin. Father… “Should we go to our home now, mother? Father should be waiting anxiously.”

Luries clapped her hands together. “Not just that! You know there’s a whole celebration for blooming members! Your father is absolutely attending, in fact they let him cook for the feast! Oh I’m so glad they’ve come around to trusting him as much as I do. Though I asked them to let him return home to greet you right away.”

Link widening his eyes was a rare sight. “He did what?”

“I told you I never doubted you, my little moon. Nor did he! I’m sure of it. He’s been cooking all day. Come now! Hopefully, they heeded my request..”

Teleportation was a magic skill developed by long practice, an art only accessible to full-fledged Yiga warriors. So, Link and his mother made the long trek down to the Hideout.

Down the Highlands’ cliffs, they slid, the soft snow providing an excellent pillow. The boy Link had beat into submission was gone, his missing body accompanied by footprints. All across the Highlands, Link could see the various Yiga members tasked with carrying off unconscious fighters to the healers’ chambers. Such thoughts made the wounds on his legs ache again, the movement made the dried blood crack and bleed anew. However, Link said nothing. Luries’ pride in him did not wane.

Through the sloping pass and the bottomless hole, and into the cave the pair called home. The Yiga hideout was essentially an artificial cave system, carved out by their ancestors 10,000 years ago when they defected from the Sheikah. Each inch of stone was a sign of painstaking care and dedication passed down from the first rebellion against the Hylian royal family. 

However, this was only the surface level. Deeper down through more hidden walkways, always mindful should the enemy discover their home. At these lower levels were the actual homes of the Yiga. These halls were decorated with the laughter of children, family prayer sessions, and trainees discussing the sharpness of their new blades, and their excitement to one day see the world beyond the hideout.

During the day of the rite, it was silent, not even footsteps disturbed it. Luries always kept herself so quiet, and Link could only match for now. Even at times, the sound of leather on stone whispered lightly into the air.

Closer to their home, however, came something faint. Barely a ripple, but something never heard throughout the caves.

_”...though we may roam,  
Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”_

Link could feel the swelling grin from his mother, as he couldn’t see her face past her taller figure. Though, the same bloom came to him as well. There was only one person who sang in the entire Yiga Clan.

_”A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,  
Which seek thro’ the world, is ne’er met with elsewhere.”_

Silently opening the door revealed their humble abode. Luries had inherited it from her father, and as she had a small family just like he did, it only comprised 3 rooms; a washroom, the shared bedroom, and the main room holding their dining mat and the glittering shrine. 

Readjusting a painting of Link’s grandfather, was a man who also stood out amongst the white hair and red eyes of the Sheikah. It wasn’t a joke that Link looked nothing like his mother; Atalph had the same shade of honey blonde hair and sky blue eyes as Link, sharing a smaller body compared to the towering length of the Clan.

But most of all, he sang. With that, Luries held as much adoration on her face to the sight of his father as much as she did for Link.

_”Home, home...sweet, sweet home.”_

The previously cheerful ballad seems to drop. Atalph’s voice cracking, dragging the melody out as his arms drifted from the portrait. They rested by his sides, motionless as he looked further up to the stone ceiling

 _“There’s no place like home…there’s no place like… **home.**_ ”

They all stood in silence. Luries watched her husband with all of the love in the world, Atalph hung his head down, and Link awaited the inevitable.

“An absolutely gorgeous song, my heart.” Luries sighed. The next part of the list was also checked off; his father flinched ever so slightly, and his shoulders tensed into a tight square.

“L-Luries, please don’t sneak up on me like that-'' Atalph squeaked, barely audible as his hands curled into his chest. He couldn’t get to the rest of his plea, as just like she did with Link, she wrapped her arms all around him. Although she didn’t squeeze; her arms gracefully hung on his neck like jewelry, one hand caressing his ear. Atalph simply breathed out, his eyes closing as he weakly returned her actions.

“...guess what, Altie,” Luries whispered excitedly, looking to Link and giving a wink. Atalph hummed a curious note, to which Luries said, “guess!”

“I cannot possibly fathom what you have in mind, beloved.” He mumbled.

Luries released him from her embrace and turned him to face his son. “Our little boy won! Master Cadraz already confirmed Link is to be promoted to blademaster! See? I was right to not worry, why would we ever doubt our talented son?”

While Mother glowed like a fire, Link’s father was not so easily deciphered. Every part of his face contradicted each other. His eyes were glittering a little, more than Link could ever remember seeing, yet his smile didn’t quite reach far enough on his face, certainly nowhere close to Luries. 

“A...blademaster,” Atalph said at last, as though it took all of the strength he could muster. “My little boy, all grown up I see. Your mother was right. I...I’m proud of you too.”  
Link blinked, but then returned his smile. Atalph’s became a bit more real.

A big kiss was pressed to his cheek by Luries, which Atalph surrendered to. She giggled lightly again as she tucked a stray hair behind her husband’s ear. “I’m glad you think so, Altie. Though we mustn't be late! I don’t want to put a bad impression on Master Cadraz. Come now! We can bond over the feast. Oh, I heard they’ve gathered all the bananas in Faron for this…”

It was far from Link’s first rite feast, yet he could already tell this one would feel most unforgettable. His childhood was sprinkled with memories from such feasts, his young eyes wide as he watched the newly appointed blade masters flounce around their status. He swore that would be him one day, a windcleaver personally forged in his honor. As he tied his hair up for the ceremony, he finally realized his wistful fantasy was no longer a dream. 

His reflection was stern against the wall-mounted mirror in the family main room. He frowned at himself, two bordering candles only dramatizing his expression. The mask he had earned sat just below the mirror on a carved out shelf, propped against the countless Yiga texts his mother kept. He switched his gaze between the mask and his reflection, only growing more disappointed. While his appearance for the feast was near perfect, he couldn’t help but wish he could wear the mask to the gathering as well.

Behind his reflection, Luries was busying herself with tidying up Atalph’s appearance. He had already been dressed in the same fine robes as his son and wife, traditional Yiga embroidery running up and down every inch of its silk surface. All that needed to be attended was to wash his hair. Luries’ gentle fingers drifted down his scalp, collecting his long hair to be swept up into a bun. Her face held nothing but pure adoration, cheeks pinked and eyes half-lidded despite the many times she had brushed through her husband’s hair before. 

Atalph only stared ahead blankly, letting his head get tugged around by her movements. It was a familiar scene in their household and a ritual his father had all but gotten used to. She completed the knot on the back of his head, wrapping it in red twine and finishing with a kiss on his cheek from behind.

“All done. I dare say I’ve never seen you so handsome.” She said as Atalph turned back around to face her. Her hand settled under his jaw and lifted his eyes to hers. “Though, I’m sure you’d look even lovelier with a smile.”

As if expected, his body heaved a great sigh before the corner of his mouth turned up. A joyless half-smile. Enough to satisfy Luries, apparently. She laughed airly and stroked the side of his cheek with her thumb. 

“Ah, I told you so.”

Seeking a sight anywhere else other than in front of him, Atalph’s gaze shot right, locking eyes with his son. His smile had faded by then, the two stony-faced men staring at each other from across the room. Aside from the slight lines and scars on his father’s face, the two were nearly identical. With watery eyes and hair the color of wheat, they were certainly the ones to gawk at amongst the clan. Both had grown long accustomed to the remarks, however, returning any and all attention with the look of blankness every Yiga knew so well. 

Luries’ sight followed Atalph’s almost immediately, and she clasped her hands over her mouth when she spotted her son. 

“Link...I…” Her hands lowered to reveal a smile, eyes now brimming with tears of joy. “I know you wear the same robes every feast but… it’s just now hit me. You’ve grown up. You fill out your grandfather’s robes completely. My little moon…”

Within seconds he was swept up into another hug, though this time Atalph had been dragged along for the shared embrace, the small family locked in Luries’ grasp. Link couldn’t help but laugh at his mother’s excited actions, albeit awkwardly. Atalph only stood in silence, his eyes downturned as he waited to be released.

“Ah, my boys.” Luries sighed as she loosened her grip, still not completely letting go. “If only mother and father could see us. Surely they are smiling, wherever they may be.”

“I believe so too.” Link nodded along with her, only to stop at the growl of his stomach. “Say, shouldn’t we start heading over? I nearly starved to death before falling to an opponent on the rite.”

“Oh! You’re completely right.” She finally let them go. “Why I was so distracted I nearly forgot the time. Darling, snuff the candles. I’ll be just a moment.”

His mother scurried to their bedroom, leaving Atalph and Link alone. The two stood in silence for a moment, the only sound being the distant humming of Luries as she rummaged through a chest. Link thought his father was about to speak, as he briefly opened his mouth, only for him to lick his fingers and snuff the candles by the mirror with a pinch. 

He continued the same routine with every candle stationed around the main room, almost leaving it in complete darkness. Link awkwardly shifted at his place by the mirror, arms hiding away inside their silk sleeves. He had always found conversation difficult, especially with his father. Where there once was a warm relationship now lay silent, and as the two grew older, their conversations grew shorter. Atalph seemed content with their lack of communication, however, Link placidly accepting whatever nod or glance he was given. 

The last candlelit should’ve left them shrouded in darkness, yet the room was still decently illuminated by a single candle. It lay at the back of the main room, centered at the altar his mother had set up for his entire life. Dried safflina laid in clay jars around the candle, several pieces of sandstone and topaz arranged circled around it as well. In two small, woven baskets at the front of the altar sat freshly skinned sand sparrows; an offering. But beyond the altar was the centerpiece of the entire home: a tapestry of their deity, their purpose. Calamity Ganon. 

The golden tapestry had been woven a millennia ago, though it’s embroidered skin still gave off a youthful sheen. With its reflective surface, only a single candle was truly needed to light up the house. The sewn scales of their serpentine deity cast stars across the walls, a display so bright that it even managed to stunt Atalph’s tracks. He stood staring at Ganon’s gaping, yet silent maw, and for a moment Link thought his father to be entranced by the image. As he discreetly stepped forward, however, he could see Atalph’s face held nothing but sorrow.

“So sorry for the wait.” Luries swiped away the moment, exiting their bedroom and into the bath of light. Her windcleaver sat sheathed at her hip, though now it was wrapped in a decorative ribbon. A miniature embroidery of the tapestry that sat on their wall. In each hand she held a pair of hairpins, it’s glossy surface matching the beam she had on her face. “I just remembered I had these. They belonged to your grandparents, Link.”

“Thank you.” He nodded when she passed the pin off to him. It was simple in design: a pair of long, red needles, Yiga emblems carved into its surface. He could tell they were old just by the texture, and as he slipped them in his hair to secure his bun, he swore he wouldn’t get into any fights this evening. Luries slid the other two into Atalph’s hair, pecking him on the cheek as she did so. 

“I suppose that does it. We don’t want to be later than we already are, do we?” Luries laughed. “How long I’ve been waiting for this day. You’ve made us proud, Link. You really have.”

The candle was snuffed with the quick pinch of her fingers, and they left for the feast. 

While the passageways earlier had been near empty, they were anything but now. Yiga families filtered out of their homes, all dressed in the same traditional garb and leisurely making their way to the feast. Any other day of the year, the Yiga were spread across Hyrule sniffing out the hero or conducting their usual spy work, but today on the summer solstice, they all gathered to welcome the newest members into the clan. The footsoldiers, the spies, the blade masters, all their ascensions were witnessed by the community. Tomorrow, they’d be on their way again, the new warriors just behind.

Children darted past them, the one in the lead holding an oversized mask to their face. Link smiled at the sight; he had once been one of those kids. The life of a warrior was the only goal in a Yiga child’s life, serving under Ganon and spreading his influence across the map. Of course, he never expected to see himself land in a role as esteemed as blademaster, but he had landed the job out of his own hard work, hadn’t he? He deserved it, no matter how many times he second-guessed himself. 

The corridor slanted up, leading into the venue of the night. The fruity smells of the feast took hold of Link in an instant, nearly making him forget his bandaged legs and patched up face. Tables on tables of delicacies were laid out in the canyon. Aromatic banana tarts, glistening roasted swallows, dried wolf meats, he almost couldn’t decide which he wanted to dig into first. A crowd had compacted around the tables, bickering over the plates and shoving each other out of the way. The sight couldn’t have been any more normal for the Yiga.

At the end of the long stretches of food sat the pit, darkness growing as it reached deeper into the earth. Children and their parents huddled around, partaking in another tradition he remembered fondly. Sons and daughters giggled as they wrote down their wishes and dreams on the prayer slips, letting them drift into the void, hoping they would come true. It was always a popular rumor that Ganon laid down there in the pitch black, biding his time. But somehow, he was tied into being the granter of children’s wishes. Somewhere, if there was a bottom, was Link’s slip. The years had eroded what exactly he had written down, but as he looked to his proud mother and the festival bustling about, the lanterns shining alongside the stars above, perhaps his wish truly came to fruition.

Master Cadraz was nowhere to be seen, nor was his own wife, though his chosen advisors held around the hole, helping their children write the complicated script of their ancestors. One of them spotted Link and his family, one in particular; Blademaster Stallade, not only noted by his impressive age but for the mass of bubbling scars where his left eye should be. 

He stood up, signaling to his own kin to stay where they were, and came over to them...well, more to  
Luries.

Luries put a fist to her palm and bowed deeply. “Blademaster Stallade,” she said, the smile on her face turned more respectful. “To what honor are my family and I owe to speak with you?” Just as she spoke, Link could feel the flinch of his father, as he turned his gaze from the night sky to the Yiga in front of them.

“Blademaster Luries.” Stallade didn’t return the bow. “Well, for one part, it is evident with the fact we nearly have fights starting over at the food tables. Today’s supply for the feast was put to very good use.” For the first time, Link could remember, someone other than his mother spoke to Atalph directly.  
His face remained flat and blank, but Link could see how his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched, his hands trembling ever so slightly. 

“Husband of Luries,” Stallade nodded. “I’ve heard some good things about you from the cooks for tonight’s feast. The tarts especially are an...interesting choice.”

Atalph swallowed and did a deep bow of his own. “T-thank you, Blademaster Stallade.” 

Luries gave a muted, yet warming smile to him as she moved to hold his hand, yet the tension never left his body.

“Of course, some complained that you held your cutting knives a little strangely.” The Yiga said.

“I’m sorry, Blademaster Stallade.”

“I’m not a cook. Do not apologize to me.”

“...”

Atalph cast his eyes to the ground, darting around as he tried to choose his next words. Luries looked like she was about to vouch for her lover, but luckily, a familiar whistle sounded. 

It was almost routine what happened now, the difference being Link was finally a part of it. In unison, children and established warriors retreated to the outer part of the canyon, his parents as well. Luries tilted her son’s chin up and squared her shoulders, a silent command to stand up straight and look brave. She then squeezed her husband’s hand and followed the others.

The newly initiated stood at the edge of the bottomless pit, just as the moon peeked in the sky. The ranks fell in order; blademasters stood here, spies and archers there, and the footsoldiers across from Link. He could only recognize one in his ranking. An unfamiliar girl stood to his left, but on the right was the boy that had attacked him during the rite. He had some sort of padding over the wrist Link had twisted.

 _I know how to punish her._ Master Cadraz’s words whispered in his mind, but before he could even attempt to search for her, smoke and prayer slips filled the air by the one-way door. Finally, in full ceremonial furs and jewelry, was the Master. Unlike the others, he had his mask on, and so did his wife. 

The pair landed on the ground and then held her hands into the air. The Yiga on the outer circle fell to one knee, their heads duck down. 

_”Omen of darkness, seeped with hatred, herald of revenge.  
Come on swift hooves to this land choked by their grip.  
Send your malice on the wind, send us your sword.  
Bring us the strength to carve your path.  
Let the cries of those long passed ring forevermore,  
Never let them fall on deaf ears, let them be heard.  
Revenge, we beseech, revenge!  
Bring back what once was ours, oh king of the scorched,  
Our home, our birthright, our glory.  
Send fear into their hearts once more,  
So that we may grant you eternal life,  
And we may take back what they stole.”_

Master Cadraz’s voice did not echo, it stayed put in their own little world. Yet it rang and rang and rang, through the young skulls of the newly initiated. This was a common prayer within the Yiga, some saying it was written when the Sheikah tribe first split, ten thousand years ago. Yet now, despite hearing it everywhere all his life, it sent shivers down his own spine. Some kind of emotion he couldn’t pin down.  
Pride, and something else. 

Cadraz came forward with his wife trailing behind. He had his hands folded behind his back, each step of his stride radiating power and authority. The newly initiated parted, allowing the Master an empty spot to speak through as they all looked towards him with expecting eyes. His wife made a deep bow to him and the new warriors and went to join those at the walls of the canyon. Finally, he spoke again.

“At last, the night has finally come. Under this full moon, a new generation of warriors shall rise and give their blood, their lives to regain what our ancestors had lost. All of you shall hold your heads high with pride, as you stand at the most imperative time of all history.”

Cadraz's hand swept upwards, cupping the white moon. “The return of Ganon inches ever closer, all signs beckoning his arrival. Monsters are born under crimson light, more ferocious than ever. The Hylians and our cowardly brothers, the Sheikah, have brought back what should be ours en masse. The guardians and divine beasts our forefathers built.”

His arm returned down, but now that hand was held forward, fingers clawed up in indignation. “The very technology the Hylians feared us for, and demanded us to abandon. The machines we crafted with our own minds, the technology they depended on to defeat any enemy, they now use against us. It was our creations they used that they came to cower before us. They ordered us, forced us to destroy our creations, and forsake our traditions, all so that damned royal family could feel _safe._ ”

The hand curled into a fist. “However, in doing so, the Hylians sealed their own fate. While many in the Sheikah tribe bowed their heads to the King, our predecessors stood. They raised their blade against Hyrule in the name of our people. So the progenitors of the Yiga Clan were born, our first master leading them here to create our home. Soon, we sworn our allegiance to the Calamity, promised to aid his return and victory so that we may take back what belongs to us, the true members of the Sheikah tribe.”

His hand came to his face, removing the mask. It revealed the same white hair and red eyes, a face unblemished and clean. Though his eyebrows furrowed, a triumphant smile grew wider. 

“You, my young warriors, are the most important era of the Yiga. Alongside your elders, you must do your best to aid the beast of darkness, Ganon, as the sound of his roar grows louder and louder, to keep our oath true. So that the descendant of Hylia’s incarnation shall never prosper, and that the soul of the hero shall never rise.”  
Many masked soldiers came now, all of them carrying iconic weapons of the clan. A few windcleavers, outnumbered by the abundance of duplex bows, sickles, and demon carvers. The servants kneeled down in front of the initiated, presenting their designated weapon.

The sight of the sheathed windcleaver, his _own_ windcleaver, stirred Link’s stomach into a slight frenzy. A lifelong dream to have one of his own, now finally. It was tucked into the typical straw seen on blademasters, but the handle was just enough to fill him with pride. 

However, when Link’s hand clasped around the hilt of the sword, a dizzying rush of déjà vu flooded his entire body, enough to freeze him wholly. He let go of it, the delirium immediately vanishing. The Yiga in front of him brought his head up in confusion, but before a scene could truly emerge, Link swiped the blade and hooked it to his hip. The same feeling slammed back into him and then disappeared when he put his hand down

Luckily, no one seemed to notice or cared enough to stop the ceremony. Master Cadraz carried on with his speech. “These weapons in your hands are the few traditional designs we were able to steal and hide from our foes. The duplex bow doubles ammunition, bringing the receiver of our arrows a gruesome, yet mercifully quick end. The vicious sickle and demon carver’s unique shape allows for quicker slashes, its metallic whistle bringing fear into the hearts of all. Last but not least, the wind cleavers, their craftsmanship so ancient, it may be older than the Kingdom of Hyrule itself. Such metalwork creates a vacuum in the air, allowing one to manipulate the wind in a moving blade. A powerful weapon for the most meritorious of the Yiga.”

Some of the Yiga took the time to admire and study the equipment forged just for them, though many of the archers immediately holstered theirs onto their back. Some sense of comradery came to Link; for some reason, he could barely stand to hold the weapon he fought so desperately for. 

“Do not despair if you received a sickle or a bow, however,” Cadraz said, perfectly recapturing Link’s attention. “It is every part of a Guardian working together that makes it so feared. From the spider-like legs that carry it to its powerful laser, without the other, it is nothing more than a useless machine.”  
With a deep bow, Cadraz ended the ceremony, and they were finally free to eat.

It was concerning, the overwhelming _vagueness_ that cascaded through him whenever he grabbed his new windcleaver. Even now, grabbing the hilt once again, it came through, this time much weaker. As he looked to the splay of food, however, he quickly forgot the feeling and followed the crowd to his own seat. 

A few minutes and a plate full of food later, Link sat on his knees near the front of the innermost long-table. His mother and father sat across from him, Atalph’s plate near empty as Luries lovingly fed him from her own. She silently urged his mouth open, placing a bite of sugared banana inside and smoothing back his hair as he slowly chewed. It was a sight as old as time within the clan, yet there were still elders who would eye the pair with curiosity. Link chose to look down at his own plate rather than look at his parents any longer.

He had loaded his plate with more than he was willing to admit. Glistening boar roast topped with pickled safflina was at the center, sitting atop a hill of rice. Bordering it’s left was a boiled egg, soaked in a savory marinade until it was a golden brown. To the right of the plate, a cluster of dumplings, packed with herbs and the tips twisted to resemble desert flowers. The food he looked forward to the most, however, was the small banana tart sitting just outside the plate and on the table. Its edges were dusted with cinnamon, yellow flesh dripping with honey. Inside it’s steaming center no doubt laid the banana pudding, whipped to perfection and buttery to its core. After a moment’s deliberation, he chose the boar first, his chopsticks slipping through it’s tender flesh with ease. 

He almost had it to his mouth when a loud sniff next to him caught his attention. He glanced over and nearly dropped his chopsticks onto his plate. His focus had been so affixed to the food that he hadn’t even noticed his fellow rite goer seated next to him, poking through their food with their own utensils. The Yiga he had faced before Riklah.

“Pan,” Link addressed him. “Are you feeling well?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, allowing Link to take in the many bandages that had been warped around various parts of his body. After swallowing a shred of boar, he looked back to him, red eyes lidded. 

“I suppose as well you can feel after getting third place,” Pan said, setting his chopsticks down to fully face him. “Though, I’m sure you’re waiting for me to congratulate you. Good win, I suppose. Everyone in our class would kill to be you.”

Link blinked in confusion, leaning forward to look down the table. It appeared that he had inadvertently sat at the table with all of his fellow rite goers, all sporting a bandage or two. Him not being an exception. Though he hadn’t encountered all of them during the rite, a vast majority cast grim glances his way, fists tight on their utensils. It was then that he noticed the absence of a particular Yiga, one who almost speared him in the neck. 

“Third place? But what of Riklah? Where even is she?”

Pan gave a quick snort, a smile finally crawling onto his face. “Did you not hear? Her would-be title of blademaster has been stripped. She will be nothing but a lowly archer. It serves her right, I suppose. We can’t have someone dumb enough to attempt murder on a fellow Yiga serving in our highest ranks.”

He glanced briefly up at Luries to make sure she was occupied before leaning in, voice lowered. “But between you and me, she wasn’t the only one willing to try. I’d keep your guard up from now on.”

Link’s brow furrowed at him, all other distant conversations fading back into earshot as Pan moved away. He sliced his own soft boiled egg with a quick pinch of his chopsticks, the yolk bleeding all over his plate. With a grin, he swallowed a bite of it, orange juice running down his chin. “Happy Rite Day, Link. May Ganon guide you.”

Pan then turned to address the Yiga next to him, completely disregarding Link for the rest of the feast. Feast… right. He looked back down to his own food, yet they were far from appetizing now. Was he right about Riklah not being alone in her pursuits of his death? Could he not trust his very meals now? As if he were a puppeteer, he shakily guided his hand to his utensils, reluctantly picking up a cluster of grease-soaked rice. If his peers would always be after his neck so be it. He deserved his position, and he would defend it till his last breath.

With a silent prayer and a quick exhale, he choked the bite down. May Ganon guide him indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

The desert sun never changed. Whether Link was in the highlands or the Gerudo sands, its white face shone the same, never differing, never hiding. This grew increasingly evident when his true blademaster training began. Day after day it rose and fell, and day after day he perfected the blade under its watchful eye. Now it hung in the grasp of midday, illuminating the desert beyond. The horizon was half obscured by dust and heat, though from the high cliff Link was perched, nothing was beyond view.

Despite having grown accustomed to labor from a young age, he couldn’t help but grimace at the blisters that had formed on his palms under the gloves. The rough leather grip on his wind cleaver was brand new and had yet to be worn down through combat, thus his hands were often left the most damaged due to his lack of real foes. His arms hadn’t escaped the aches either, still prickling from yesterday’s rigorous training session. Another groan escaped him as his mind unwillingly went back to it, the heat not enough to distract him.

“Recall. Back to starting point, all of you.”

They had been out in the oasis all morning, the shallow pools of water around them beginning to look less like a treat and more like a delicacy. He couldn’t have allowed himself a sip, however. If Blademaster Stallade caught him, he would have surely flung him off Gerudo Canyon. 

Link lightly jogged back from where he had been standing, trudging through the clear waters at his ankles. From all around, his fellow trainees found their way back to the front of the oasis as well, some slower than others but still promptly reporting just in time. Stallade stood with his arms crossed at the front, waiting impatiently for the line to form in front of him. Link took his place in the middle, back straight and masked face staring dead ahead. The blade hung heavy strapped onto his waist, but he kept his legs firm, even if the sheath slightly dragged along the ground due to his height. 

“Shoulders back, Vantal. No slouching.” Stallade had barked to a Yiga down the line, who quickly adjusted their error. After the whole of the class had returned, the teacher clapped his hands sharply, sending an echoing crack through the area. “Turn back, everyone. This time I want you to teleport as far across the water as possible when I say.”

The trainees turned without question and Link followed suit, though his mask hid the painful grimace he got every time teleportation was even mentioned. He crouched into position, hand to his chest. His whole body was clenched, ready to will itself into shifting across the collection of ponds. He wouldn’t fail again. He wouldn’t be outshined. 

“Now.”

All around him the Yiga blinked out of existence with quick puffs of smoke, and his jaw clenched at the fact that he hadn’t been first. It was too late to fume about it anyway. He screwed his eyes shut, bit his tongue, and vanished, mind pinpointed on the rock at the far side of the oasis. For a few heartbeats, he was flying through the air, his body weightless in the grip of teleportation. Then, like no time had passed at all, he was spat out in the middle of the pond, flipping once through the air before landing hard on his tailbone in the shallow water. 

He hissed as a jolt of pain ran up his spine, pressing a hand to his lower back as he waited for the pain to fade. The water was useless in softening the blow as well, now leaving him wet, seething, and quite alone in the center of the pond. Ignoring his aches, he balanced onto his heels and stood, head whipping around to see if anyone had witnessed his blunder. 

He didn’t have a witness. He had an audience. The entirety of his class stood at the end of the oasis, all watching him shake the water off of his sopping armor. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see Stallade staring as well, arms crossed and his stance completely rigid. Link couldn’t even sigh. His whole body was on fire, aflame with repeated humiliation. This was just another one of his failed teleports, and now that the rest of the class had learned, he was now the odd man out. 

Mercifully, Stallade didn’t wait long to speak. “All of you, we’ll resume in five minutes. Take a quick break.”

It was then that Link sighed, body sagging with the relief that he had been spared punishment. The others turned to speak with each other, some kneeling to take a sip from the water. Link only trudged to a single dry island housing a single tree, letting his tired body slide down the trunk until he was lazing under its canopy. He wouldn’t have much time to relax, however.

“A word, Link.” 

His gaze shot up at Stallade’s voice, body tensing at the sight of his teacher with his sword drawn.

“Wait, Blademaster Stallade I-!” He shot to his feet, blubbering any and all words of apology. The blade master only stared blankly, turning the sword in his hands and positioning it to a horizontal strike. “Wait! I’ll try it again, please!”

The blade didn’t stop. Link backed against the tree, his hands held out, his body twisting to get away. But the sword simply left Stallade’s hand, breezing through the air before landing in Link’s grasp harmlessly. He blinked dumbly at the event, looking up and down between the blade and his teacher. The Yiga didn’t speak.

“Blademaster Stallade, why have you given me this?” His voice was still shaky from the shock, legs feeling weaker than he’d like to admit. The sword was heavy in his arms, himself holding it out like he was presenting it.

“Shouldn’t that be clear? You left it at the starting point.” Stallade said simply, his voice gruff. 

“But my sword is… oh…” Link looked to his sheath to find it embarrassingly empty. Had he failed to take the blade with him during teleportation? Perhaps the lack of weight was what allowed him to be thrown through the air like a doll. “I see.”

“Your mission is tomorrow, yes?” The master asked. “For the thunder helm?”

“It is, sir.”

“I thought it was so.” He sighed and looked out to the distance where Hyrule Field lay. “I may need to speak to Master Cadraz in order to replace your position.”

His stomach immediately plummeted at his words. A replacement? Surely he didn’t intend to choose another trainee for the mission?

“Blademaster! What have I done to disappoint you?” He practically stumbled over his own feet to catch up with the man, highly aware of how low he stood beneath him. “Please, whatever I’ve done, I can certainly fix it.”

Stallade’s gaze jumped from the horizon to Link in an instant, as if he was shocked at such a reaction. The young Yiga’s heartbeat feverishly from inside his chest, wishing that he could examine the older man’s expression. He was just beginning to regret his sudden outburst when Stallade sighed heavily, arms locking together behind his back.

“Can you explain your technique to me?” He asked. “How exactly do you go about the process of teleportation?”

Link swallowed his nerves, melting into his usual tense stance for when he was addressing a superior. 

“Of course I take everything you’ve taught me into account. My surroundings, my destination, the people around me,” he said. “The most important part is the destination, and that’s what I put all my focus on.”

Stallade had fallen silent for a few moments before he spoke. “I might as well tell you now before you learn it in some tragic epiphany. Nothing else matters except for yourself. Your life, your survival, only you alone can control it. The rabbit falls to the hawk because it worries about the nearness of its predator and not the nearness of its burrow. Do you follow?”

Link nodded.

“Everything you do as a blademaster must concern yourself and yourself only. The wind bows to you, your foes fall before you. Only Ganon stands above us, and it is for his sake alone that we put ourselves above the likes of others.” Stallade continued. “Do you get it now? This way of thinking controls all of our ways of combat. Even sorcery. Teleportation can only be properly accomplished when you think only of yourself. Heartbeat, location, movement. These things belong to you and you alone, and it’s only when you clear your thoughts of anyone else can you properly transport.”

“And what of the blade, sir? What of the objects that I wish to teleport with me?”

For once, Stallade chuckled. “The wind cleaver is a part of you. Surely you have learned this by now. Your failure to think of only yourself left the blade behind, not your lack of focus on it.”

As if a veil had been removed from in front of his eyes, Link saw the concept clearly. Self-focus, one with the blade. Both pillars in the Yiga belief. How could he not think to apply it to one of their most basic practices?

“I understand now, blademaster.” He said. “I will right my wrongs. You must give me a chance.”

“You won the rite for a reason, Link.” Stallade replied, his mask now downturned to look at the blade in Link’s hands. “Heart runs in your family. The potential your mother has is boundless, yet she is chained by the pet she insists on keeping around. Would you like to change that legacy?”

Link nodded so fiercely that his mask nearly toppled off. 

“Good. Today’s practice ends in the evening. Impress me before then and I may consider keeping you for the mission.”

It was all a blur from there, Link teleporting more times than he had previously in his life. He rejected all other thoughts other than himself, just as Stallade had told him, yet he still found himself messing up occasionally. He may leave a mask or a blade behind, but now he made it to his destination perfectly, sometimes even beyond. As the group moved across the highlands, teleporting across several landmasses, Stallade watched. And when the sunset beyond the dusty horizon, he heaved a great sigh. 

“I’ll let you go. Barely. Prove me wrong, boy.”

Now Link stood at the tip of a cliff overlooking the vast Gerudo desert, windcleaver secured at his hip. He mustn't let the blademaster down. He mustn’t let the _clan_ down.

“Hey, Link! Are you ready?”

He spun quickly to see his troop for today gathered behind him. Two blademasters, three-foot soldiers. All more experienced and seasoned than him. To be going on missions so early into his training, and with Yiga this experienced… it was an honor only the winner of the rite could achieve. 

“Yes, Blademaster Syhl. Is everyone here?” 

“Everyone is here and accounted for. Sun's going low, sky’s clear, no better time for a mission, I’d say.” The experienced yet young blademaster replied with a smile on his voice. He had been the winner of his own rite near a decade back, and Link melted in relief when he heard the relaxed Yiga would be heading his first official mission. “Before we head out though, I want to make sure you all know the intricacies of this hunt.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Blademaster Syhl rolled out a huge map of Gerudo Town, with every detail possible from a bird’s eye labeled. Each water canal lined perfectly, all the various shops titled and who owned them, even the rooms of the citizens and the chief. Even to someone born and raised in the Clan, it was an unnerving amount of information. 

“Now,” Syhl broke through Link’s trance by the map, his finger tracing the far end of the town. “It will be easy to simply ride our seals to the back of the throne room, take out the guards ourselves, grab the helm, and sneak out. But that’s just not us, and besides, a little birdy of our own gave us a great tip for a big event happening today.”

It was almost like the brightness of his smile was able to shine through the mask. “Today, Princess Zelda makes her official proposition to Chief Urbosa, to become the Gerudo champion and pilot Vah Naboris. Right around sunset.”

The stiffness bloomed amongst all of them, and Syhl chuckled. “Now I’ve got your attention. However, there are no orders to take either of them out. Zelda has yet to be a true threat to Ganon’s return, and with Vah Naboris still largely underground, Urbosa isn’t one either.” He pointed a finger to Link, waggling it. 

“You especially. Stay away from the chief. Let’s not bring family vendettas into this, no matter how sad Blademaster Luries still is over her father.”

Even with the mask on, Link kept his face blank. Syhl looked back to the map. “However, we can still get some good information from them, and maybe finally learn the identity of their secret little hero. Info, the thunder helm, and their humiliation. I’d say that’s quite the bounty to come back with.”

He ran a finger around the Gerudo establishment, circling the back to the east side of the town, then going inside it. “We’ll arrive in our disguises as simple Hylian tourists, excited for a glimpse of the princess and the chief. For the most part, Illie and Blademaster Tiklis will head further into Gerudo town. You two will compile any information on guard count, formations, positions, and any secret agents of their own. Return once the Princess starts the ceremony around sunset. This will be evident by her dress and maids following her.” 

His hand returned to the outside of the walls. “As for us _voe_ , we will stay out in the open until after the ceremony. Our informant knows for a fact that Urbosa and Zelda spend time together after such meetings. When that happens, Piren and Rekkono will ambush them through their disguises. I’ll stay near in case they, well...in case Urbosa draws too much blood.”

“As for you, Link,” Syhl said after breathing in. He had been paying close attention to the plan, mental notes taken for the days he led missions, but now, his skin was bristling. It seemed to take forever for Syhl to get to his part. “At this point, most guards will either be asleep, off duty or rushing out to help the chief and the princess. This is where you teleport or sneak to the throne room, whichever is easiest for you, snatch the thunder helm, and take your sand seal back to Karusa Valley. You’ll have to go indirectly however, it’s been some work to convince everyone we live far out in the southern wastes. Don’t ruin that for us, never lead them back to our home.”

Now, under the inverted eye, Link’s jaw did drop a little bit. Well, it was expected since he was only the only soldier left, but...him. Not only such an inexperienced blademaster, but his own heritage, and he was given the main task of the mission…

He put a hand to his chest and bowed his head. “I promise I won’t fail you, Blademaster Syhl.”

The rest of the day’s hours went by like sand in the wind. Riding across the scorching dunes was a breeze, the sand seals dutifully swimming through the desert. Once Gerudo Town appeared on the horizon, the magic for the full disguises was cast. It was strange, feeling the weight of his armor, the tightness of the suit, the trusted sword hanging on his belt, yet none of it could be seen. All hidden under the cover of red Hylian garb, dark hair, and hazel eyes. 

Arriving at the edge of town, the seals were tied to the respective posts, and the wait began. The female Yiga stepped easily into the town, disappearing into the crowd of Hylian and Gerudo women inside, yet the glaring eyes of the guards were unsettling. If Link failed so many times at teleportation, then something must’ve gone wrong here. Was the wind cleaver showing? Were red clothes too much of a giveaway?

“This male-free tradition, eh, Daris?” Syhl joked, his unfamiliar disguise made clear only by his voice. He nudged Link with his elbow, and suddenly he was not Link. Daris, the simple Hylian traveler. Link gave a small smile, and not-Piren and not-Rekkono gave much heartier laughs. The guard only seemed to grow more hostile. 

“Aw, no worries, we respect your traditions. Just here to see Her Highness make the journey. Let’s sit under the tarp, lads. _Sav’orq_.”

So they sat, and as they waited for the women to return with their findings, it seemed that daylight bled away into the night with ease. Tiklis and Illie emerged, just as the sun met the horizon. Guard schedule was the same beyond the ceremony, with most stationed outside the entrance of the throne room. With that news, not-Syhl gave Link a small wink, and the trumpets sounded.

They were all ordered into the most respectful Hylian bow, all the way to one knee, a hand on the leg, and the neck bent to the ground. He stared holes into the ground, eyes widened in curiosity as he sensed the princess passing. Even out of sight, she carried an unignorable aura, tempting Link to dare and take a peek. A look wouldn’t hurt, he decided. He should know the face of his enemy, after all. Just as he felt her walk past, he craned his neck slightly upwards, a millisecond of a glance. 

In the brief glimpse that he got, Link was nearly floored. Golden hair alight with evening’s glow fell down her back, green eyes trained forward and face stern. She didn’t even give the four men a glance. She was royalty in its highest regard. A true enemy to fear. His training told him to strike, to ambush, to utilize every scrap of his training. Alas, that wasn’t his mission. It laid inside the endless walls of the desert town.

“Head down, voe!” A Gerudo guard barked at him. He followed without question, quickly turning his gaze back to the sand. He certainly didn’t expect any less than the future queen of Hyrule. It was a shame that in the end, she would become just another lost treasure among the calamity. 

Once the Princess had entered the town with her followers, now came the time. Tiklis and Illie had done their part, so they took their seals and embarked north, as though they were returning to Hyrule. Link and the 3 men did as well, but they turned to the west, back around. Hidden by a gallery of tall desert rocks, close enough to the town’s entrance, now the clock was ticking. 

Once the night fully blossomed and the wind bared its frigid teeth, Syhl’s prediction came true. The blurry blue and red figures of the two royals were clear in the distance. And so, Piren and Rekkono sent off. 

Though it turned out to not be much of an ambush. It was always a joke that some people were attuned to the “scent” of the Yiga, always able to detect them even under the most plain of disguises. It turned out, Urbosa was one of them. 

“Halt. And face me.”

Everyone stopped at how her words carried over the sands, reaching Link and Syhl with sharp clarity. Even he seemed to freeze still, and Link could only watch as the two footsoldiers simply stood at the oh-so random accusation.

“Unlike you traitors, I prefer to fight my enemies head-on.”

Syhl’s hand felt heavy on Link’s shoulder. A whisper came from him, barely a dent on the wind’s howl. “When I remove my hand, _go_.”

Silence, fractured by the sound of singing metal.

“ _Do your worst!_ ”

One would’ve thought, even at their ranks, two against one would be an easy enough victory. Unfortunately, it made sense now how Link’s grandfather met his end. Urbosa cleanly got rid of one of them, driving her elbow into his stomach, sending him limp on the sands. As soon as that soldier fell, Syhl darted his hand to the hilt of his sword and disappeared into a cloud of prayer slips.

_Go._

The quickest prayer to Ganon passed his lips, willing his body over the walls of Gerudo Town. Only himself. His heartbeat filled his ears like drums, overtaking the cacophony of swords and steel. Over the walls.

Weightlessness consumed his body, and just as easily, he was inside the desert city. A sleeping girl stirred in her sleep as Link landed too close to her, but she did not wake. A pat to his hip, and yes, his wind cleaver came with him. But he couldn’t give thanks yet. 

A perfect mix of speed and silence was hard to achieve, and even still sometimes the sound of his cloth shoes made the slightest sound on the town’s pavements. Darkness had abandoned him, the yellow stone of the walls and floors paired with the newly waning moon illuminated everything. Sneaking through the entrance was not a slight option. He had to count on teleportation again.

He had seen the throne room briefly during the day, and now he could glimpse the side of it from an empty food stall. So, he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his lips together as he curled a tight fist to his chest. Himself, in the throne room. No place for failure. Himself, his heartbeat, and-

Just as the spell settled over him, a crack of thunder tore through the tranquility, green lightning flashing from the town’s entrance. The weightlessness soon turned to panic, a rowdy animal Link could barely get under control. He could feel himself fly through the air, higher and higher, too high, and then suddenly, he slammed onto the ground.

Not the ground - a wall. Hardly daring to even breathe, he opened his eyes. He was greeted by the throne room adorned with ribbons, gold, even more gold, and gemstones sparkling in the shadow. The same went for the gleaming white shape on the ground - his mask had fallen off. 

His heart hammered, threatening to burst from his chest, yet he inched away from the wall, eyes flicking between his mask and his glittering target next to the throne. Not a soul stood guarding the entrance from the outside, but that did little to relieve him. He was close, so he could not fail now. The mask would have to wait. 

Turning, stepping closer, to 6 emerald eyes on a golden crown. Circled by a halo of lightning bolts. The Thunder Helm. His gloved hand reached to the underside of it, its coolness radiating through the thick material. Victory at last.

“What do you think you’re doing, you thief!”

His fingers had barely grazed the surface of the helmet when the voice rang out to his right. It was panicked, shrill. Loud. He had been spotted. 

His feet pivoted in the direction of the voice, hand flying to unsheath his windcleaver. He already had it out by the time he was fully facing the intruder, blade arched and ready to unleash a sharp gale. His legs nearly gave out under him when he met the eyes of Princess Zelda. 

She stood in the archway to the throne room, one foot out like she had stopped herself midstep. Her eyes were widened and jaw agape like she instantly regretted saying anything. Silhouetted by the moon she nearly looked like a walking shadow. In the dim light, however, he couldn’t make out the shape of a dress. Had she intended to walk with Urbosa? If so, it appeared that she donned her field outfit a little too late. 

Link’s windcleaver hung stiffly in the air with shock, his whole body frozen. The princess herself appeared frozen too. Neither of them had budged an inch upon meeting eyes. Only Zelda’s eyes moved, darting around as she took in his face. Took in… _took in his face…_

_She saw my face!_ Link nearly slapped his own forehead, hand flying up to confirm that he had indeed forgotten his mask. As if synced, the two looked to his mask which lay forgotten on the floor. Another second, and they were looking back at each other. Back and forth their gazes shot until Zelda risked a glance behind her. Link threw himself off the dais, stumbling over his usually trained feet to sweep up his mask. He plucked it from the ground, jamming it back onto his face with a twinge of pain shooting up his nose. He didn’t care if it was stable or not. All that mattered was his next decision. 

Zelda had turned on her heels, ready to fly out of the throne room in a heartbeat. She was mere footsteps away from the exit, but the Thunder Helm still awaited. Take the helm and risk being tracked or take the princess and evade being detected at all? 

His sword was moving before he could let himself make a choice. It cleaved the air, the expertly cultivated blade creating a vortex at the tip. He just had to make a downward slice and Zelda would be down. Killed, certainly not, but injured? One could only hope. It was a move he had done thousands of times since the rite, so memorized that his corpse could probably do it. Tonight, however, he stumbled. 

His arms cut diagonally like they had a mind of their own, swerving in the air and sending the slice of wind just barely over Zelda’s head. 

“Shit!” He exclaimed, forward pedaling to make sure he didn’t fall on his face. The windcleaver swung dumbly with its momentum. It finally stopped when he planted his foot down, steadying it outward. What was wrong with him? Had he just failed the most basic of attacks? He didn’t have much time to ponder why.

Zelda was on the ground, dropping to her stomach to avoid the careening gust. The gust itself hit the top of the archway, utterly harmless, if not chipping it a bit. Missing the shot wasn’t important, he realized. She was down, and he was on his feet. There was still a chance. 

As if he had been doing it his whole life, Link teleported right behind her, prayer slips disintegrating around them. He scooped her up under the arms before she could stand, which was met with thrashing on her end. 

“Guards! Guards there’s a Yiga!” Link ground his teeth together when she cried out, struggling to drag her back.

“ _Quiet,_ ” he hissed. “I’ll leave you be if you just let me do my job.”

She stopped her struggling just momentarily to look back at him, almost offended that he would suggest listening to the orders of a Yiga. In a well-placed thrash, she caught her elbow in his ribs. A lungful of air escaped him with the hit, sending them both crumbling to the ground. 

“You conniving- you sniveling-” Zelda spat, the both of them stuck in the endless duel between capture and escape. “You thief!”

A shout. There was no more time. 

“Bite your tongue,” he said, raising the pommel. It only took one quick swoop and the back of the sword came crashing down on the back of her head. With enough controlled force, of course. She let out a disgruntled gasp, before stiffening and going slack. Then, there was silence. 

He sat there for a few moments, the only sounds being his heavy breathing and the gentle whisper of Gerudo Town’s waterfalls. Zelda remained motionless, her hair draped over face as Link held her upright. He swore to Ganon as the reality of his situation landed on him like a brick. 

This wasn’t the mission. This wasn’t the mission at all. He had come for the Thunder Helm, not the princess of Hyrule herself! And she had seen his face as well! He couldn’t just leave her here as a free piece of evidence, yet he also couldn’t bring her back with no explanation at all. Cadraz would have his head, and he might as well have everyone else in his team’s head as well. 

“Ganon guide me…” He murmured, aware of how small and utterly empty his voice sounded in the grand throne room of the Gerudo. His legs finally regained their strength, urging him to stand with his cargo in tow. He had never been the strongest, yet the princess was easy enough to carry, turning her gently so that he could pick her up on his back. His method of subduing never lasted long, so he needed to get her far away and fast before the shouting resumed. 

It was then he spotted it. 

The triforce glimmered at the front of her tunic, embellished in the fabric at the center of her torso. 

_That’s it!_

As the holder of the Triforce of Wisdom, she must be linked to the hero. If Syhl had informed him correctly, they had yet to even find the Triforce of Courage holder. At least, that’s what the royal family said. It would be a perfect strategy to hide him away, shielding him from Yiga attacks and any potential onslaught of harm. If they managed to wring his location out of the princess…

He loaded her onto his back with no further thoughts, his heart now racing in anticipation rather than nerves. Her head slid slowly to rest on his shoulder, and it was then he realized how much care he had been handling her with. Like she was one of the Gerudo’s most sacred treasures. _Gerudo. Treasure. Right._

The Thunder Helm sat undisturbed on its pedestal next to the throne, bearing witness to the entire situation. He approached it as quickly as he could with a person on his back, cupping its smooth surface with his gloved hand. Should everything go according to plan, a sand seal should be waiting just out back for him. He threw around a few words in his head he would use to explain the extra luggage he got. Hopefully, the sand seal would be strong enough to-

_“You there! Halt Yiga rat!”_

Stomping footsteps seemed to surround him as more voices shouted, commands to stop, cease, their chance for recognition to capture not just a Yiga, but a blademaster. Surrounding him in all directions...except one.

Moonlit sand beckoned him with the wind whispering, begging him to escape beyond the darkened throne. Even with his training, Zelda was quite difficult to carry as his feet slipped and skidded over the sudden shift from polished stone to rough rocks. As he landed in the hungry sand, the shouts of Gerudo guards grew closer. Yes, his comrades did their part - a sand seal waited loyally at the entrance, standing to alert at the sudden commotion. 

There was a sudden thought to also tie the princess to the seal, but it was enough of a hassle to tie himself. He didn’t dare look back to see the wave of Gerudo chasing after him. He flipped over the steel shield just as the rope was secured to the harness, and a sharp “ _hei!_ ” sent the creature into overdrive. One arm twisted around his back to support Zelda, the other to prepare his windcleaver.

Gerudo Town quickly grew smaller as the sand seal cut through the pale dunes. The tall silhouettes of guards poured from the throne room’s back opening, and every single one stopped as their feet sunk into the sand. Link would’ve sent a warning shot of wind, yet his unexpected luggage kept his much needed right arm preoccupied. 

To further the illusion, he continued straight from the town, further into the sandstorms that raged constantly in the south. Soon, the desert fortress was a mere speck on the horizon as hills and skeletal remains blurred past him. There was a debate as to whether to search for Link’s partners or return to Karusa Valley by himself, and that debate was answered by an arrow shooting from an array of ruins into the sky. That shot was confirmed by the flash of a duplex bow’s metal teeth. 

Tugging the seal to a halt and jumping off the shield, Link trudged through the looser sands of the southern desert to the pitch-black opening to the underground part of the ruins. The dim white glow of a mask stared out at him, with a female hiss of “ _get in here already!_ ”

Down into the darkness and a turn to the right, the meek lighting of old oil lanterns illuminated the ancient room, enclosed on all sides by collapsed walls and sandstone. It was clear that Blademaster Tiklis was resting against the side, as the other gave out manly screams of pain as a footsoldier twisted his arm. That arm fell on the ground, pushing up the rest of his body, which fell limp onto the sand.

“Link!” Syhl panted out as the footsoldier moved to the other side. “Link, that’s not- AAAAAAHHH!!!” Another scream rang out as his other arm was contorted, snaking around his back at a strange angle... 

Link laid the thankfully still unconscious princess to the floor, and he pointed a finger to Illie. “You. Tie her up before she wakes up.”

Illie stood still for a moment as her inverted eye stared back at him, but ultimately the ranks between them mattered more than whatever was going through her mind. As Illie took out her sand seal rope and Tiklis finally noticed the impromptu prize, Link stepped to his superior, going to one knee. “Blademaster Syhl, what happened to you?”

“What _happened_ was that I and Rekkono got _electrocuted_ by Urbosa, that’s what happened.” Syhl sibilated through his mask. “Hyrule be damned, now I really get why we need the Thunder Helm. I’m not going through this ever again.”

Link’s eyes threw open. “Wait - shouldn’t you be dead?”

“No, I’m not Blademaster Hiya.” Syhl quipped. “You see, Urbosa- GAHK! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TALKING HERE?!”

Piren shrugged as he set Syhl’s leg to a proper bend. “Apologies, Blademaster, but this is the way my mother taught me to fix arcane paralysis.”

“ _Out of respect for our princess, you may keep your lives._ ” Rekkono said, imitating the chief’s voice, authoritative and clipped. “Heh, the little royal wasn’t even there when we fought. She ran as soon as we showed our masks.”

This time, Syhl let out a simple, throaty grunt as his other leg cracked and warped. He pushed up, jumping to his feet as he stretched his torso. “Man. Nothing like getting shocked halfway to death to really wake up your body.”

“Blademaster Syhl, shouldn’t we talk about the big issue in this mission?” Blademaster Tiklis asked, standing up to him.

“Yeah, getting to it.” He said. Just as he spoke, he put his hand on Link’s shoulder. “I didn’t get to finish what I said earlier…” A stiff finger aimed at the princess, who seemed to be finally waking up. “Link, that’s not the Thunder Helm.”

“Blademaster Syhl, please allow me to give my reasonings.” Link said as he returned to a bow. The Yiga above him crossed his arms, patiently waiting. The raised eyebrow was almost telepathic through his mask. “I did manage to teleport into the room, however, the thunderclap from Urbosa’s magic shattered my focus. With it, my mask fell off during the process, onto the floor of the throne room. When I went to go grab the Thunder Helm-”

“Alright, quit your jabber, I can piece the puzzle myself.” He looked over to the body of the princess, thrumming his fingers slowly on his bicep. Zelda was getting closer to consciousness, her eyes fluttering as groggy groans lumbered from her mouth, mixed with half-formed words. 

Tiklis joined Syhl’s side as he knelt down to the princess, and Link followed as well. The seconds went by as she climbed higher to cognitivity. 

“Rise and shine, your highness,” Syhl said drily. “I think you should share a couple of words with our partner here.”

“Wh-what?” Zelda sighed. Just as her eyes fully opened, they squeezed shut again. “Ow, ow...where did this headache come from…? Who, who are you?”

“That’s not important right now. Come on, before I make you wake up.”

A few more moments of grogginess, and then a gasp sounded as Zelda tried to move her arms, locked by the thick, coarse rope. A few more struggles until she finally gave up, throwing herself into a sitting position, meeting their masks with a fierce glare.  
“You...You treacherous, underhanded snakes!” She spat, moving her legs to get as far away from the blademasters as she could. “Which one of you hit me over the head, to kidnap me? Tell me this instance!”

The full force of the princess’ fury landed on Link as Zelda narrowed her eyes further. “You! I know it was you! You were trying to steal the Thunder Helm, then you decided to steal _me_! You are the lowest of low, even lower than the keese! I-”

“How?” Link interjected.

“How _what?_ ” Zelda retorted.

“How could you tell it was me out of us?” 

Now, it was her turn to be silent. Her mouth opened and closed again and again as she rummaged through her thoughts. “I...I just know it. I can _tell_ it’s you, even under that insidious mask of your clan.”  
Link now grasped the hilt of his blade, the cold fact that she had seen his true face churning his stomach. 

“And the mask of our clan is all you will see. We won’t let you go so soon. Anyone who merely glimpses the true face of a Yiga cannot walk freely.”

“Ah, yes! I remember!” Zelda said triumphantly. “Oh the darkness didn’t lend any color, but the shape of your face and eyes! I won’t ever forget so that when I escape from your evil hands, I’ll make sure your visage is spread all over the Kingdom, and-”

“Alright, someone gag her. I can’t take any more of this insult fest with a failure of a Hyrulean princess.” Syhl sighed out, standing up and turning away.

“Failure?!” Zelda riposted, though Link could swear he saw her eyes glisten a little more. “You scoundrel, I’ll have you know that-” 

Venomous words dimmed to muffles as a cloth was settled over her mouth. Though she thrashed even more and yelled louder through the gag, Syhl and Tiklis simply walked away.

“Blademaster Syhl, I do think she can be useful to us.” Link said as he followed his superiors, though their backs still faced him. “She must have information on who the reincarnated hero is, the holder of the Triforce of Courage. Whoever he is, is the biggest threat to us and Calamity Ganon’s resurrection. With her, we can pry out his identity, and take care of him much easier.”

Syhl nodded, musing to himself. “Plus many other intricate royal secrets. That much is obvious...they are in control of the Sheikah technology revival…”

Tiklis stepped forward. “However, we will need to execute her once she gives up everything worthy.”

Now, Link was floored, a sudden panic settled over him at Tiklis’ suggestion. “ _What?_ ”

Despite the mask, Tiklis obviously furrowed her eyebrows. “Blademaster Link, she saw your true face. That alone is a cause enough. The threat she made is no joke. You will end up like Blademaster Stallade; with your visage known throughout Hyrule, you will never be able to leave the hideout, and at this time, we cannot afford to lose any elite soldiers. Once she expends her usefulness, she must be put down.” 

“Wait, she doesn’t have to die!” One part of his mind could scarcely believe the words that were hurtling out of his mouth, yet he couldn’t find the strength to stop. No, Zelda couldn’t die, not when there was better… _more rewarding_ option. “She could be even more useful as a ransom after we get the information. The king’s daughter - we can drive up a very high price in exchange for her return.”

“And then what? She turns around and still spreads your image. Even if we kill her after that, the act is already done and you are homebound!” Tiklis countered. “We cannot risk another leak like that after Blademaster Stallade!”

“Quiet, both of you! Great Calamity, you’re giving me a _headache!_ ” Syhl suddenly barked, clutching the sides of his red hood. The two bickering blademasters instantly stopped, with the other bristling with irritation. 

“The master...Master Cadraz will know what to do. He’ll decide what we do with this rotten little royal, alright? We kill her or put a price on her, _he_ decides. Not me, not you, _him_. I won’t have any more tussling about it or I’ll throw you in prison alongside her.”

Stiffly, Link and Tiklis nodded, but the heat of the argument still clung to her skin. It burned against the cold desert night. 

“We are not wasting any more time. Back to Karusa Valley. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is nouvellelune and I just wanted to say thanks for reading :) Due to November being NaNoWriMo, we'll be on hiatus for a month to focus on our original work. We should be back in December with new chapters. Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

Pale sand, bright moonlight. Together, the entire desert was in his palms.

To go out and return to Karusa Valley now, as Syhl had said, was too risky as Gerudo warriors raced across the sands with their own seals. Even more so with the surprise luggage that was constantly squirming and yelling underneath coarse rope and gag. 

At least the old plan pulled through; Link could see the women travel straight to the south, some with protective gears to combat the sandstorms that constantly raged down there. Surprisingly, the golden crown of Chief Urbosa was not among the ranks. She was nowhere to be seen. That had given him an idea to use on the princess, but it was whisked away when Syhl spoke.

“Link, you don’t suppose you have a recipe for a sedative, do you?” He said, using the dark colors of his disguise to blend into the ruins’ shadows.  
“What, why?” Link asked.

“Well, why is a stupid question,” Syhl snorted. “I know your mother had a particularly strong one. Once I found your dad asleep down in the prisons, and I threw a rock at him, and he didn’t even stir.”

Link only had to look at him.

“Come on, I was like, 5 years old. Anyways, would be great to get the ingredients and use it on the spoiled brat in there.” The blademaster rubbed his forehead and groaned. “I was serious about that headache. That lightning strike might’ve done more than I realized.”

Tiklis sighed, her breath manifesting into a fog. “The best idea is to let her exhaust herself, so she’s not worming around on the way back. If that mouth ever does tire out, that is.”

“Worth a shot!” Syhl chirped, then he gave Link a hearty shove. “So get to it.”

He kept the huff of annoyance in his lungs, the stony expression settling underneath his Yiga mask. However, he could feel his footsteps pick up a little unconsciously as he descended down the sandstone tunnel. Gripping the hilt of his windcleaver tightly and planting his feet down, he took a single breath in. Steeled, faceless, a warrior of the inverted eye. That’s what he was, and that’s what he will be as long as there was blood flowing in his veins.

Most of the lamps had burned out their fuel, leaving a single one casting dying lights on the wall, dancing over swirling ancient script. Once Link stepped into the collapsed room, the princess’s struggles came to a halt as her weighty glare focused on him. The same fury held her shoulders tense as she straightened her posture. 

Zelda flinched backward as Link reached his hand for the knot holding the cloth tight around her mouth, the other habitually on the sword’s handle. The gag fell to the floor, and the stream of vitriol immediately followed.

“What brought you back down here?” She spat, almost literally. “Did you want to humiliate me more? Execute me? Go on! Tell me!”

Link held his tongue. _Let her tire herself out._

After a period of her own silence, she raised her voice. “Such strange reticence for a clan so bumptious. Are your fellow crooks not celebrating their prized capture?”

“You weren’t our initial target,” Link finally said, keeping his tone leveled and calm. “And I am trying to keep you from being beheaded, you are more useful a bargaining chip than a corpse.”

“Why, you are the humanitarian of the century!” Zelda yelled even louder, a sarcastic grin matched with an equally dry laugh. “I’ll make sure to give my praises to my father when I make my glorious return.”

“If you want to survive, I suggest you be more amicable.” Link countered. “The higher-ups won’t be as forgiving as I am.”

“Forgiving? As if _I_ am the one who has done any wrong?” Zelda scooted to sit on her knees, her glare dead ahead. “You dirty thieves know just how to shift the blame, as easy as swiping treasure. I detest your ways. I detest _you_.”

“Are you done now? You won’t do your voice any good shouting like that.” Link crossed his arms and pretended that his ears weren’t ringing from the volume.

“And should I preserve it for when your masters are interrogating me? Torturing me?” He was almost feeling threatened by her aggression. She leaned forward, her shoulders tensing, her eyebrows creasing. “I’ll never follow your commands. Never!”

Link was about to respond when he was suddenly met with a blow to his head, strong enough to bring small stars sparkling in his vision. He barked his own shout, alas it was to an empty spot where Zelda once sat, only occupied by a pile of rope. He only saw her silhouette for a second when she darted down the turn of the tunnel, and finally, his own legs gave chase. 

“Stop! Get back here!” He yelled, but of course, she only ran faster. Any chance of escape was worth grasping, at least try grasping. Her ardent sprint kicked sand onto his face as she climbed higher, a few small grains weaseling through the seams of his mask and down his skin. 

The pale moonlight flooded in as Link tried to blink out the fading pain from the hit, greeted by sounds of more struggling and swears on both sides. 

Syhl was back in his own form, though it appeared Zelda had knocked off his hood, revealing his white hair but not his face as he stumbled backward. It was Tiklis who managed to teleport behind the princess and proceeded to twist her arm at a painful angle. 

“Footsoldiers, get the rope, any one of you!” Tiklis hissed as Zelda struggled even harder. “This time, we’re tying the wrists and the legs. The gag too!”

The 3 footsoldiers raced out, one down to the ancient room and the other two to one of the sand seals. The superior blademaster threw his red hood back on, huffing as he stepped over to Tiklis, who was tightening her grip by the second.

“This...this chit is really getting on my nerves.” Syhl growled. “How the hell did she get out here, Link?”  
As Illie and Rekkono helped Tiklis bind the princess’s limbs, Link shook his head. “I...I don’t know. I was talking to her one second...and then she must’ve hit me in the head to escape…”

The blademaster huffed. “I could hear the whole thing. Must’ve used her volume to cover up the sounds.” He proceeded to kick a plume of sand at Zelda. “Crafty, I’ll give you that, little brat.”

Link frowned. “Blademaster Syhl, was that necessary?”

“Is it necessary to be so soft on her?’ Syhl retorted. “You should’ve killed her the moment she saw your true face. But I guess you’re sold on using her for ransom. You better pray to the Calamity that the Master agrees with you.”

Tiklis stood up as she dusted off her hands. “There. She shouldn’t escape now. Those knots are much tighter. Digging in enough to finally keep her quiet too.”

Glimmers of dawn were starting to peek over the horizon, bloody orange and yellow. Although the winds still froze the air, the sky was turning warm. 

“The day is about the break.” Syhl said. “Search parties are out for now, but they’re bound to increase by morning. It’s final; we leave now.”

Zelda was still shaking the sand from her eyes when Syhl swept her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a freshly killed game. She kicked weakly, a far cry from her thrashing earlier. Her shouts had vanished as well, hidden behind the much tighter gag. Link felt a weight of pity in his chest at the sight. A feeling ripped from him when the blademaster spoke again. 

“We reconvene at clan center. I don’t care how you get there, just don’t be late and especially don’t be seen.” Everyone nodded at the orders, Link internally groaning at the thought of teleportation again. Syhl held onto his cargo with one hand before lifting his other, two fingers raised. He disappeared into a flurry of prayer slips. 

The others soon followed suit, blinking out of the ruins as they began to take their own routes to the hideout. Link sighed before screwing his eyes shut, thinking of the smooth, trickling sands of Karusa Valley’s entrance. He thought of himself, his body, his blade, leaving this place. Leaving the cave. He brought his hands together with a clap, and before he knew it, he was landing on his tailbone in the sunlight. The sloping arches of the valley hung above, dripping sand down his back. Still not home, but he wasn’t near enough ready to make that far of a jump. Another teleport would have to do. 

_Myself, my body, my blade._ He thought with closed eyes. _Myself, my body-_

Zelda. 

The image of the princess invaded his mind just as he warped, his original destination becoming wiped from his thoughts in its entirety. He kicked his legs out in a split second, panicking, wondering what kind of place thinking of a person would bring him. For the single heartbeat that he teleported, he was airborne. Falling, even. Up or down? He couldn’t say. All he could identify was that familiar whoosh of air that came with his usual failed warps. 

Blinding sunlight entered his vision at once, accompanied by the evacuation of air from his lungs as his back slammed into another. 

“Hey!” A disgruntled voice belonging to Syhl cried. “Oh _shit_!”

Link lifted his head from the ground just in time to see the blademaster teetering over the edge of the Yiga’s sacred pit, shoved nearly to the brink by Link’s force. The princess propped on his shoulder kicked wildly at the bottomless void just below, no doubt screaming into her gag. All he could do was stare in shock as the two almost toppled into the gaping hole, thrown forward by his own foolishness. Almost. 

Tiklis shot her arm out and grabbed Syhl by the scruff of his hood. She didn’t waste a second yanking him back like a child, sending him stumbling several feet back.

“Great Calamity! What was that about, Link? Huh?” Syhl panted as he regathered Zelda onto his shoulder. “You almost sent us straight to Lord Ganon yourself!”

“It was a mistake! I muddled my teleportation up again, honest.” Link bowed severely at the waist, relieved sweat dripping down his nose and onto the inner walls of his mask. 

“Idiots, the both of you.” Tiklis groaned, placing her face in her hands. “I warned Blademaster Syhl not to stand so close to the edge, but he was bent on tormenting the princess. I should’ve let that imbecile fall.”

“I didn’t need your help anyhow.” Syhl fumed, and Link could tell his face had flushed with embarrassment beneath the mask. “As for you, Link. I’ll be speaking to Blademaster Stallade about getting you some private lessons. If I hadn’t been there, you might’ve flung yourself straight into the pit!”

“Right. Again, my sincerest apologies. It won’t happen again.” Link said, though, in the back of his mind he couldn’t help but wonder if he just would’ve teleported wherever Zelda was based on her last-minute appearance in his thoughts. 

“You better hope there’s a next time, Link.” Tiklis said as she stepped next to him. “With this… eh… blunder with the princess, Master Cadraz may not be so willing to let you continue on such high risk missions. It’s something hard to overlook.”

“I understand, Blademaster. I’ll face whatever is given to me.” As Link said this, however, he could practically hear the scorns of Master Cadraz already. He could only hope that he was able to sway him to spare the princess’s life. 

The trek to the Master’s chambers was a long, and dreadfully noticed one. As the princess lightly tried to buck herself off of Syhl’s shoulder, nearly every Yiga in the clan gawked at the awkward procession. Several jeers and questions were shot Link’s way, voices that grew muddled as the crowd grew. 

“Break it up, all of you.” Tiklis tried to lead the way, keeping a path clear of curious onlookers. Link could hardly hear her shouts, though. He kept his eyes trained downward, focused on his feet as he drowned out all sound around him. What awaited him at the Master’s chambers? Never before had he been involved in something so detrimental to the clan. A royal family member in their clutches… it was near unheard of. His reaction would either be overjoyed or… displeased, at best.

They arrived at their destination almost a little too quickly for Link’s liking, Tiklis approaching the two blademasters stationed outside. 

“I know this is sudden, but we seek an audience with Master Cadraz.” She tried to speak as casually as possible, but the blank stares of the guards going from Zelda to her made the presentation useless.

“Blademaster Tiklis, were you not deployed on a mission to retrieve the Thunder Helm just yesterday?” One of the guards asked with a hint of humored curiosity to his voice. The other lifted a finger and wagged it at Princess Zelda. “That doesn’t look like the helm.”

“How observant of you.” Syhl said dryly. “This is obviously important, so if you’d please fetch the Master it would make things a lot easier for us.”

The two guards looked to each other as if they were reading each other's minds on what to do with their sudden arrival. The broad doors in between them would bust open before either could act, however. 

“What’s all the hullabub? Can’t you two keep it quiet out here?” The three blademasters took a step back as the doors swung open, giving way to the clan leader’s very own personal sage, Kohga. He was heavily adorned, too much for regular combat, so it was lucky that his main mastery was in the art of Yiga sorcery. He stopped just shy of the doorway, freezing in the middle of waving off Link and his party. Zelda had strained to lift her head, eyes widening as she looked straight into the mask of the sage. 

“This is of the utmost importance, Sage Kohga.” Syhl said, his tone dropping considerably. “We must speak to Master Cadraz immediately.”

“Woah! What in the-? What’s Miss Blondie doing here? In the _YIGA CLAN?_ ” A few seconds went by, and then Kohga stepped back dramatically like he had been stricken. “Eh?! Syhl, what’dya call me? Wherever did ‘pops’ or ‘dad’ go?”

“Wherever mother ran off to, I’d suppose. And I’d like to stick to the formalities if you don’t mind.” Syhl grumbled. “Step aside, please. Discussing this with the Master is essential.”

“You better be ready to explain yourself to the boss, and to me most importantly.” Kohga’s black fluffy headpiece bounced as he spoke. “I got expectations to fill, and I don’t gain favor with my own offspring flubbing missions up.”

“As if you care about letting others down.” Syhl said. Even Zelda seemed interested in the exchange at that, peeking through her hair to watch. “And by the way, this wasn’t my doing. You have Blademaster Link to thank for her highness’s presence.”

“Link, huh?” Kohga’s gaze slowly transferred to him, his mask leaning uncomfortably close to Link’s. “Say, you’re Lu’s kid aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“And the Hylian’s abduction is your doing?”

“It is.”

Kohga looked between the two of them slowly, hands perched on his hips and back slouched. 

“I suppose it runs in the family then…” He muttered quietly before clapping his hands together. “Alright! An audience with Master Cadraz you want, eh? Well it’s an audience you’ll get! Along with the council of course. Me included.”

The sage clumsily turned around and began a march into the room, letting out a self-important “hmph!” Syhl shook his head, let out a hefty sigh, and readjusted the princess on his shoulder to follow him. It was quite comforting to see Tiklis take in a breath and steel herself before falling in line. Link could feel his own skin start to crawl when he stepped through the doors and into the council’s room.

Cold air met his skin once again, a far cry from the hideout’s trapped warmth. The ceiling ran so high it grew into darkness, even darker holes allowing the wind to come through from the surface beyond. Carvings amongst the wall etched the Clan’s source of revenge; images of the Hero chasing down women clutching their children in their arms with the Hyrulean army just behind him, villages on fire as the King saw it through, and their beloved technology destroyed and torn asunder as men weeped around carnage. In the flickering firelight, these horrifying carvings appeared to move and shift. A seemingly living, breathing reminder of their ancestors’ pain.

Even more petrifying was what sat above the seats of the Master and his advisors. Perched on the edge of a high platform like a vigilant vulture was the mummified corpse of the very first leader of the Yiga, who was the Clan’s namesake. Her long hair was still pure white, a stark contrast to her aged crepuscular skin, cascading down from her mask of 6 horns. On both sides of her were 2 more preserved bodies of Master Yiga’s first chosen advisors, still wearing their masks as they all stared down to their descendants below. It always felt that the wind’s whispers were them muttering amongst themselves, constantly judging and discussing their successors’ decisions.

As soon as they stepped into the middle of the council room, the 3 blademasters dropped to a deep bow, both of their knees down as they pressed a fist to their palm. Although their heads were also bent to the ground, Link was able to strain his eyes to look towards the captured princess. She was also on both of her knees, but all signs of resistance had disappeared, her eyes widened as she took in the consternation of the room. 

The thickness of the air was lightened a little when Kohga let out a relieved sigh when he sat on his pillow, directly below one of the mummies. “Take a good look, Master Cadraz! I think we have a bit of a problem on our hands!”

“That is clear to me, Sage Kohga.” Cadraz said in monotone. All of the faces of the Master’s advisors were hidden away by their masks. Stallade was clear to see in his own position, marked by the crack that sprayed out from the corner of his. The rest Link had heard of but never met; Blademasters Yki and Peye. Yki, who had reportedly never lost a match against either Yiga or enemy, and Peye, who perfected the art of impersonating not just Hylians, but also Gerudo and Zora, leading many successful reconnaissance missions. 

There was a moment of silence as the 5 highest ranking members of the Clan took in the situation before them. Cadraz himself simply placed a hand on his chin, Stallade rubbed his forehead, and Yki and Peye whispered to each other. Kohga had leaned back, resting his head on his hands against the pillar behind him.

“From the leader of this mission, I wish to hear the story,” the Master commanded. “Blademaster Syhl, you may speak.”

Syhl slowly stood up, holding his arms behind his back. “Master Cadraz. My plan was simple; using the intelligence given by our informant and by my subordinates Blademaster Tiklis and Illie, I had myself and Footsoldiers Piren and Rekkono to distract Urbosa and her guards by seemingly attacking her and Princess Zelda. This would give Blademaster Link plenty of time to claim the Thunder Helm with ease as Gerudo Town would be defenseless, her soldiers away from their throne room.”

He took a breath in. “However, according to Blademaster Link, the thunderclap from Urbosa’s spell she had casted during her fight with me butchered his teleportation into the throne room, ripping off his mask. Another foil in my plan,” he grabbed Zelda by the back of her collar, who started to thrash and kick again, “was that the princess had ran back into the fortress for safety when my soldiers and I first appeared. By the time I had realized this, Rekkono and I were paralyzed, and Piren took us to a hideout amongst an array of ruins to heal our status. Later joined by Blademaster Tiklis and Illie.”

Syhl paused. “According to Blademaster Link, the princess had seen his true face, and in a panic, he subdued her and brought her along with him. ”

There was a sharp inhale from Stallade, and Kohga let out a low groan. Cadraz merely held his tongue. “Blademaster Tiklis, do you confirm this story?”

“Yes, all of this is accurate.” She said.

“And you, Blademaster Link?”

Link simply nodded

A hand returned to Cadraz’s chin, but then Stallade spoke up. “That settles it. If he didn’t kill her then, then we must do it now.”

That familiar, yet aberrant panic flooded him again, and he could feel his limbs jolt as he wanted to immediately challenge his teacher’s suggestion. Yet he managed to stay still, keeping his face controlled underneath the mask. The other 3 advisors seemed to agree with Stallade, and Cadraz almost spoke again when Syhl came with a vouch. 

“That is where Blademaster Link had a different proposal, if you may allow him to plead it, Master Cadraz. However, at this point, I request that the princess is taken to our prisons before we discuss that.”

“I see…” the Master mused, then he nodded slowly. “Blademaster Tiklis, take the prisoner to the dungeons. Blademaster Syhl, inform those who had missions to Gerudo Town of the situation and help them readjust. Both you are dismissed once you are done.”

“Thank you, Master Cadraz.” They both got up, and did the deepest bow one could. “May Lord Ganon guide us all.”

Tiklis took the princess from her superior, to which she started to cry again through her muffle, glaring eyes flitting around the room to all of them as the two Yiga turned to leave. As much as he wanted to look back, Link kept his eyes forward on the council.

Once the doors were closed, Cadraz motioned his hand up. “We are listening, Blademaster Link.”

He stood up and took in a deep breath. “I speak with all due respect, Master Cadraz. I believe the princess of Hyrule is more useful alive in our clutches than dead. Not only would her status as the king’s daughter and the bearer of the Goddess’s blood would allow us to demand whatever we want for her return, but she most likely holds extremely valuable information that we would benefit greatly from.”

“Such as?” Kohga’s voice became oily as he stretched out his words.

“Such as details on the Sheikah technology revival, intricate plans by the royal family, and most importantly, the identity of the knight who wields the sword of our Lord’s bane.”

Here, murmurs amongst the council began to rise, the advisors leaning to each other as they discussed their thoughts. They quickly fell quiet as they all turned to Master Cadraz. The master himself kept the eye of his mask on Link, making no noise whatsoever. He then turned to his right. “Blademaster Stallade, I wish to hear your judgement on this matter.”

He nodded as he spoke. “I still believe we should execute her immediately. With due time we may learn all of what Link mentioned on our own, and he won’t be homebound by the princess knowing his true visage. Had I the chance, all of those who saw mine would be long dead.”

“Agreed! But nobody’s seen my face of course.” Kohga boasted.

The other two advisors saw the chance to speak for themselves. “I do see the value in using her for ransom,” Peye said. “I say we never give her away. She would be a constant weight over their heads keeping them in a panic. With the location of our home unknown, we should be safe in case they plan a rescue mission.”

“Likewise,” Yki opined, clasping her hands together when her voice suddenly became reverent. “And when Lord Ganon is unleashed onto this world, perhaps we may give her as a sacrifice, a grand tribute to his glory. The descendant of Goddess Hylia for the Calamity’s consumption...I see no better way to celebrate his immortal return.”

A tie. Usually in these cases, the Master would break the balance, but Cadraz seemed conflicted between the split advisors. He stood up and took a few steps from his seat, turning back around to lower himself to both knees, raising his arms upwards.

“Master Yiga, sibyl of the Calamity and mother to us all, I call on your spirit to guide us. I beg, answer us, and bestow your unending wisdom. Speak for our lord of darkness, of which path to walk upon.”

Link felt as if the air itself was choking him. Torchlight flickered harshly as the cold breeze grew stronger, almost plummeting them into pitch blackness. Her chalky hair began to sway in the wind, the whispering growing louder and the room colder. Perhaps it was a coincidence; a blizzard could be forming in the Highlands. Yet Link couldn’t brush off how alive the corpse looked now, as though the leader of millennia past was about to reawaken and give her order in the flesh.

He couldn’t help but feel a sharp flash of being viciously hated course through him as well.

Cadraz stood up, and the gales seemed to calm. Light returned to the council room, and the body of Master Yiga hadn’t moved an inch, nor did her aides. The current master returned to his seat and folded his hands, as placid as ever. Link could feel his eyes behind the mask hook into him like a fish. “I will grant you this, Blademaster Link. We will not kill the princess immediately. We will see if we can pry any useful information from her. ”

Link caught a sigh of relief in his throat when the Master paused, seemingly testing him. He continued. “However, should she remain steadfast or even not know anything herself, then I am afraid we may not let her live.”

A pitiful plea was suppressed, replaced by simply asking in monotone, “why?”

“Despite failing at awakening her birth-given magic, there is always the possibility that Princess Zelda will suddenly succeed at doing so.” The Master explained as though this was so obvious. “And if we cannot find out the identity of the Goddess’s hero, then we must kill her to eliminate the threat to Lord Ganon’s return, at least in half. With her execution, the Hyrulean royal bloodline will come to an end, with King Rhoam possessing no such heritage, and having no other children alive.”

He gestured his hand to Link. “In addition, I cannot let you go on unpunished for this blunder. While not eternally homebound, I will order that you must guard the princess’s cell day and night for as long she remains in our home. Any place you had for missions will be replaced by your peers. While you may take leave for lessons, rest, or food, you will ensure that she does not escape. Do you understand?”

He swallowed, pushing down the bile building up at the back of his mouth, bowing lowly at last. “I understand, Master Cadraz, and I thank you for your mercy.”

“Do not make me regret it. You are dismissed.”

Was it contrition that made his footsteps heavy as he turned to leave the council room? Or was it the feeling of eyes, both of the living and the dead, watching every move he made, judging every word he uttered? He felt every breath monitored, every anxious glance noted. Now that he had stepped out into the near empty corridor, the door shutting behind him by the two guards, the feeling never left. The eye of the Yiga truly saw all, he realized with a shiver. Even now he could feel the cold gaze of Master Cadraz rooting him in place. Master Cadraz… his punishment… right.

Getting himself to walk again was near a chore, his legs tingling as he walked feeling back into them. The dim corridor had yet to feel less constricting around him yet. On days like this, he’d often leave the hideout behind in favor of cooling off in the shifting snow of the Gerudo Highlands. But duty awaited him, and in the dungeons no less. While he should’ve felt irritation at the punishment, all he found inside was relief at the princess’s postponed execution. He suppressed a frown as he remembered the first time he had been taken to such an event.

Link had been barely taller than his mother’s leg, clinging to her hand as she stroked his small fist with a thumb. Luries held his father in hand as well, keeping him well and close. The bulk of the Yiga had been gathered for that day, the sun pulsing and heavy. Condemning. The damned man stood shivering a number of feet away from the bottomless pit, starved to the bone in the weeks leading up to his doomsday. The Master and his associates watched from aloft a low hanging cliff, looking down at the scene. With the subtlest nod, the executioner stepped forward, a retired blademaster and his wind cleaver. Link held his breath. The sword flew up the man's spine. There wasn’t so much as a scream as he toppled into the mouth of their sacred pit. 

The sight never left him. And he was certain seeing the same happen to the princess would leave him far more changed. 

“Link! Is that you?” 

Luries’s voice snapped him out of his stupor, her tall form waving at him from across the long corridor. He breathed a sigh and demurely waved back, pushing his past thoughts to the back of his mind. His mother jogged over quickly, tugging Atalph dutifully behind her by the hand. Without an exchange of words, she squeezed Link tightly with her free arm, her excitement evident. 

“Ah, I was hoping I would catch you! Blademaster Syhl let me know you were having an audience with the council, and you could only imagine my surprise!” Luries said. “Sooo? How’d your first big mission go? We’ve been dying to hear about it!”

“Eh, well…” Link scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “I’d like to say it went better. Things… well… they didn’t particularly go according to plan.”

“Well of course. That much is obvious, silly.” Luries chuckled a bit at his words. Link blinked dumbly at her, mouth falling open behind the mask. “Seeing the princess nearly gave your poor father a heart attack. I had to calm him down a bit. Poor thing still hasn’t steadied himself, I’m afraid.”

He gave Atalph a quick glance, dread falling across him as he noted the state of his father. Slick, sheening sweat had pooled around his forehead and neck, limbs trembling as he struggled to stand. His expression was relatively calmer than his body, but his eyebrows still quivered as he tried to keep composure. It was a far cry from the normally placid and reserved image of his father he had known all of his life. 

“Then you know.” He murmured, embarrassment blooming into humiliation.

“It would be hard not to.” Luries said, though her tone softened as she sensed his unease. “Word travels fast, and it didn’t help that we came face to face with her right before she was to go into the dungeon. Altie turned as white as a ghost.”

“Is he going to be alright?” Link cocked his head as he examined the shaking shell of his father. 

“With time.” Luries smoothed out his mused hair dotingly. “I don’t blame him for such a harsh reaction either. Between you and me, most Hylians have some sort of trauma associated with the royal family. Their military is quite brutal, I’ve heard. Even to their own soldiers. Poor Altie must have been reminded of the old days when he saw her.”

“I see then. I hope you’re able to alleviate some of his stress.”

“I’ve dealt with worse before. I just hate seeing him like this.” She sighed. “Which leads to the burning question. However did she get here in the first place? Surely you had no part in it.”

“As much as I would like to say no…”

Link begrudgingly explained the situation, Luries nodding along with unexpected patience. Atalph simply stared in gape-faced horror. 

“Hopefully you’re not disappointed in me.” He finished, rubbing his arm awkwardly. 

“Well, I would say disappointment would be an overstatement.” Luries said. “Shock? Confusion? Perhaps more fitting. But I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same in your shoes, my little moon. You put the safety of the clan above all priorities and that makes you a true Yiga.” 

She cupped the side of his mask and took off her own to give him a knowing, motherly smile. “You did well. A little clumsy, but well. You’ll make someone very happy one day.”

“Thanks.” Link said, a sad smile invisible under his mask. “I wish I could tell you more, but Master Cadraz has issued that I am to guard the princess’s cell.”

“It’s so like him to do such a thing.” Luries laughed and stepped back. “It almost reminds me when.... Well, I’ll suppose I’ll tell you later. Who knows what that Hylian will get up to if left unattended.”

“I’ll see you when I’m granted rest.” Link nodded and started off down the hallway. “Have a good night, if I’m unable to tell you later.”

“Good luck! We’ll see you soon!” Luries waved as he trotted off, Atalph giving a weak wave as well when she nudged his side. Soon, he rounded a corner and his parents were out of sight. While her calmness had been a relief, he did not want it to become normal. He would never make another mistake like this again. Not so long as Ganon was on his side.


	5. Chapter 5

On guard duty, even the shadow of candle light was beginning to grow entertaining.

Link stood, back straight, blade down, eyes forward, in front of the princess’ cell in the dungeons. And there he would stand for many hours more. The long room that kept their prisoners was mainly empty, considering the amount of executions they went through. If the poor souls were not executed, they were dumped in the heart of the desert for some Gerudo scout to find, should the heat of Hylia’s sun spare them. Outsiders rarely left the fortress alive; not without a beating first. Briefly, he wondered if Zelda would be one of the lucky few to see the light again. 

For the first few (what felt like) hours of her imprisonment, she had been as unruly as a storm. She had kicked at the wooden bars feverishly, arms uselessly bound behind her. 

“Calm yourself. If you break those bars you’ll only have me to deal with.” Link had said, not looking back at her from his post. 

“As if you’ve proven yourself to be competent.” Zelda had spat back, stopping her assault only briefly. He felt a prickle of shame wash over him at that. Truth from the enemy was the worst kind, and his stunt at Gerudo Town only proved that. 

“I earned this blade.” He had answered calmly. “And you will earn a harsher punishment from the Master should you continue. Now please, for your own sake, take a moment and breathe.”

That had been near an hour ago. He hadn’t heard a single word from the princess since, the only sound being the brief ruffle of clothes as she changed her position and heavy sighs. For a quick moment he wished to trade places with her. Standing well until nightfall was not doing wonders for his back, yet this is the punishment he deserved. Had things gone well, he would have been leaving a celebratory feast with his fellow squad members, likely getting a clap on the back from Syhl for a first mission well done. Alas, he was here, and it was all his fault.

He allowed himself to shift his footing, allowing his right leg a moment of peace before being lowered back down to the floor. He did the same for his other leg, stretching out his back and stifling a minorly pained sigh.

 _I wonder who Master Cadraz will send to relieve me. Whoever it is, I pray it’s soon,_ Link thought glumly as he resigned himself to watching the torch light again. 

“Yiga.” Zelda’s voice from behind nearly startled him, sounding far in the corner of her cell. “May I… may I have a word?”

Her voice was exponentially softer than before, now showing signs of hoarseness. Had the crackling of the fire been any louder, he might not have heard what was essentially an exaggerated mutter.

“You may.” He answered, hiding his curiosity. 

The princess was silent for a moment, as if gathering the thoughts in her head. 

“What awaits me?” She finally spoke, voice quieter than even a moment ago. Link tightened his grip on the pommel of his sword, a feeling he identified as pity clenching inside his heart. A lack of an answer would give her all she needed to know, while a verbal one could only lead her astray. He needed to word his response carefully.

“Your fate relies on your compliance.” He said. “I can’t promise that you’ll emerge completely unscathed, but just do what you’re told and I can get you back to your father in a few days' time.”

“I expected that.” Zelda gave a heavy sigh and shifted again. Link had to fight his own neck to not look behind him. “You’re one of them. I knew you wouldn’t act any differently.”

“So you know your destiny?” He asked. “It seems you don’t intend on dropping out without a fight.”

“I don’t intend on dropping out at all.” Her voice rose in volume as she defended herself, before lowering again as she sighed. “It’s my duty. I’ll fight all the way back to Hylia.”

Only the crackling occupied the air for a moment. Dying for a cause. In a way, they were similar, Link thought. The Yiga learn their mission before they learn their alphabet. Kill the hero. Revive the Calamity. Simple words that drove the course of their entire lives. The same must be said for the princess. Keep silent. Die fighting. He looked down both sides of the hallway briefly to check that they were truly alone. 

“You ran from the ambush.” Link said.

“And what of it?” She answered quietly.

“You fear us.”

No more words came from the princess, sniffing a bit. 

“Anyone would.”

“Was that your first time encountering the Yiga?”

“Hardly. The lot of you are crawling everywhere.”

Link couldn’t help but chuckle. “The hideout seemed awfully empty, didn’t it? We’re all across Hyrule. Perhaps you’ll be more cautious once you’re free.”

Another moment of silence, before another shift, followed by footsteps. Link automatically turned, grip tightening on his blade out of instinct. Zelda stood just behind the bars, her eyes watching his hand on his windcleaver with tired lids. As if he feared startling her, he eased his hand off the sword, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Link, isn’t it?” She asked, her voice just as quiet up close as it was when she was in the corner. 

“You could tell?” Link said with an edge of curiosity.

“A guess proven right.” Zelda looked as though she were about to smile, though the circumstances disallowed her to. “Your voice made it easy.”

“You seem a lot calmer.” He said. “Feeling hungry yet?”

“It seems I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Good. Master Cadraz’s first method of breaking a prisoner is devoiding them of food. Keep that up and you’ll be just fine.” 

“You care for me.” Zelda said quite plainly. 

“What makes you think so?” He almost scoffed at the proposal. 

“Well… I suppose without your interference my body would be dead in the desert sun by now.” She said. “The others seemed more eager to get me off their plates.”

“You overestimate your worth.” He shook his head, though his words felt like they were coming from a different mouth. “It’s your brain I’m protecting. Not you.”

“And yet you have so many reasons to do just the opposite.” She said. The princess looked up to him and he had to suppress a shiver. It seemed like she was staring straight through his mask. She might as well be, considering her past view of his entire identity. “The life of the sealer is just as disposable as the hero’s, yes?”

“I assume that would be the case had your powers even shown themselves yet.” Link promptly answered. “For now, your lack of ability is keeping you safe.”

The statement had its desired effect, and Zelda’s brow furrowed as she looked back down to the ground. 

“You’ll kill me before I ever have the chance to awaken it.”

“Perhaps not me, or even the Yiga.” He said. “Your own recklessness will have the final say.”

“We are equals in that regard, then.” Zelda didn’t look back as she turned to walk to her corner. “A maskless Yiga is not one that I would name as cautious.”

It was Link’s turn to be silent. He watched as she slid down the wall again, folding her legs next to her as she rested her temple on the corner. Her arms must have been awfully sore tied like that behind her. Surely loosening them a little wouldn’t hurt.

He turned in a panic before he allowed himself to act on it. 

_Am I crazy? That would only provide her an opportunity to escape!_ He thought as sweat dripped down his brow. Mercy for a prisoner was near blasphemous, and for a member of the royal family no less. He only pitied her due to her age… that must be it. _Remember her place. And remember yours._

“If I were you I’d try my best to get some rest.” He said, back to watching the flickering light of the torch. “Only Ganon knows what awaits you.”

He guarded her cell for another seven hours. The princess didn’t speak another word.

The seconds scraped by until Link’s ears, desperate to hear anything besides breathing and torches, picked up on the delicate sounds of footsteps, amplified by the narrow passage of the prison cave. Along with two people talking softly.

“...won’t get in the way of my own responsibilities, will it?”  
“Nonsense. You were one of the best in your class, the Master wouldn’t waste your skill so. This is merely a side job.”

Two blademasters were stepping down the hall, one of them holding a canteen as the other held his hands behind them. One’s identity came clear; the crack of the mask named his teacher, and the other was pinpointed by the first.

“Blademaster Link,” Stallade said. “The sun is setting, and Master Cadraz has called for your replacement. Rest is now granted, with Tiklis taking your position.”

Link kept himself from collapsing with relief, maintaining the rigid formation he had learned since he was old enough to walk. A simple bow was all that was needed. “May you tell him my gratitude.”

He turned to leave, but then Tiklis stopped him. He gave an inquisitive note, to which she asked, “What is this princess like now? Chatty? Stuck up? Nosy? Please, I have to prepare.”

Their teacher chuckled lowly at this desperate question, but Link just blinked. “No. She’s...silent.”

Her hidden eyes were clearly narrowed in scrutiny. “Totally and wholly?”

To which, he merely nodded.

Tiklis sighed hugely. “Then this will be an easy task, although,” the blademaster suddenly pointed her finger at the princess, unsheathing the windcleaver just enough to make the metal shrill. “If I hear a _single_ note of music from you, _anything_ at all, then I won’t be afraid to defy the Master’s orders. Understood, Hylian?”

An unnecessary threat, Link thought, but their teacher didn’t interfere. The princess, fatigued and sleepy, jolted to a terrified position, huddled into the corner of the prisoner. Frozen, yet she managed to give a single nod. 

Her new guard seemed to relax a little, but when she assumed Link’s spot in front of the wooden bars, her shoulders became squared, her head tilted slightly upwards, and she held a solid grip on her weapon’s handle. Less a guard, like Link was. She was a true prison warden. 

“Time to go, Link,” Stallade spoke uncharacteristically softly. “She’s fine on her own.”

Tiklis or Zelda, Link couldn’t decide who he meant. 

The two blademasters walked away from the prisons, the ascend of stairs raining hell on Link’s stiff legs and sore soles. Despite the lethargy clouding his mind, one question burned in his mind clear and true, like a candle in the fog. “Blademaster Stallade, if you are free to answer, do you know what they plan to do with the princess?”

“I may be free to answer, but I do not know for certain,” his teacher began. “No doubt your mother will be assigned to interrogate her. It seems such psychological manipulation, the ability to break down someone’s mind to get what she wants is a natural talent to her. All that depends on is how long it takes to get the princess to spill any information.”

Acid churned low in his stomach. _Luries_? His own mother? It was no question that she, a blademaster who had won 1st place in her own rite, could do some terrible things. However Link could see the terribly vivid picture before him, Luries ordering her squadron to inflict further pain upon the Princess in order to get the slightest confession of anything they needed. Something tugged and pulled, thrashed and flapped desperately in his mind. No, why his mother...

“Is this a surprise to you?” Stallade quietly asked.

“I...yes, yes it is.” Link finally answered. 

The teacher let out a small sigh. “After all this time, it’s apparently not so evident to...” he shook his head as he trailed off. “Well, that’s something for her to tell you. One day, I hope.”

Here they finally stepped into the main “square” of the hideout, merely a large room that held the tunnels to the outside, the homes, the classrooms, and so on. A number of clan members were walking about, some dressed in their field armor trailing behind a blademaster, some dragging their feet down to their house. 

“As commanded, you are free to rest. When dawn rises, you will return to your post. So I suggest you sleep soon.” Stallade gave him a simple nod, and with that he left, footsoldiers following him as they went down a path that led to the Gerudo Highlands. Why, he couldn’t bring himself to care about.

That _something_ was squirmed still, now quivering deep in his heart. It spoke without words, it spoke in a language too foreign to decipher. Confusion, disquietude, it made his feet want to race to Cadraz and ask _why_. It was shapeless, it refused to explain, it resisted being named. It gave him the sudden need to be a sentinel, a protector. To shelter, to shield, to...

_Why?_

Ultimately, he knew where he should go. Sleep could wait. Vitality washed through him, purpose one could call it. To Link, it was merely a question that needed to be asked.

If anywhere made one feel watched, it was in the prayer room.

Maintained by priestesses in the name of the First Master, this room was beyond the mortals who stepped into it to offer to Lord Ganon. It seemed to be in a world of its own; one’s voice barely worked in the stale stagnant air, as though the Calamity consumed your very words. The life of the outside never reached it. Not the noise, not the wind, nothing. Lanterns and candles scintillated weakly, their light a possible offense to the god of darkness. Sanguineous cloth choked the walls, waterfalls of vital liquid as the Yiga Clan’s collective offering to their vengeful deity.

Upon wooden racks were masks, countless masks. These were the masks of those who fell in combat. Masks of those who lived and died by the blade, masks of those taken away too soon. Somewhere in here was his own grandfather, Hiya, and Link could feel his dead eyes hook onto him, along with the rest of the souls trapped in here. Their overwhelming regret, hatred, rancor crawled up his back, their odium a weight on his feet. 

It was only then one could notice the tapestry. The oldest one within the clan, yet the threads held an immortal grip on their color. Various footsoldiers and blademasters, on their knees, their arms held forwarded in reverence and beseechment to the swirling mass of red and black above, towering flames burning behind them. The depiction of the Master was posed in despair, her hands covering her face as she wept, the ground beneath her showing the burial of the divine beasts, the guardians, and indeed, more bodies of the ancient Sheikah.

The Calamity above stretched his arms to them, his devoted. His boar-like face was devoid of any humanity, yet it was also strangely understanding, still lined with malice and ire. Such prowess in the artistry, that Ganon’s eyes did not look to the faithful, but forward to the world, to Link. 

The warm safflina in his hands were gentle, alas they brought no comfort in the oppressive, airless shrine. Taking in a breath did little to soothe him, but he came with a reason. A question so important it could only be answered by the very bringer of the apocalypse.  
Such delicate flowers were little of an offering, the only thing he could offer from a day of being kept by a cell. He needed something, anything to gain Lord Ganon’s attention. He matched the men on the tapestry; he bent down on his knees, and held his hands forward as a suppliant.

_“King of the scorched, destroyer of lands,  
I come before you, as my very blood calls to you.”_

Link took in another breath, however the very air choked him.

_“I seek only your voice, your omnipotence, wherever you shall lie,  
As my heart pleads for direction, my soul cries for guidance.”_

That part had to be forced out of his throat, becoming a hoarse whisper in the deafening silence. Even more reason to give his question. 

_“The harrowed spirits of those fallen be my witness, and you, Lord Ganon, my judge.  
I ask you, with all of my being, my hands, my life…”_

He opened his eyes, held them up to meet the Calamity’s. The only thing that existed in this world, at this very moment. 

**_“What’s wrong with me?”_ **


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for torture and interrogation in this chapter. It’s not immensely graphic, but you have been warned.

A land consumed by flames and darkness felt familiar, too familiar.

Lightning was the only source of illumination, briefly showing the charred dirt beneath Link. The surrounding fire served no light, as though it only existed to incinerate his skin. Looking up, the sky was also defying reality. Albeit black smoke obturated the realm above him, the sky swirled with colors like whorls of paint.

Blinking soot out of his eyes, Link stood up at last and met the shadowed figure who stood beyond the ring of flames. Despite being purely ebon and almost shapeless, his mind immediately went to _she_. She stared on with horror, and Link wanted to ask what was wrong and several questions more, yet the words did not manifest. He tried again, but still nothing came. He cupped his throat and attempted to force out a sound, but then the figure merely looked up and pointed a hand to behind him. 

Turning around, almost dutifully, she pointed to _something_ behind him.

This thing let out a tremendous roar that spiked pain in Link’s ears and nearly sent him flying into the burning fields. Whatever it was, it was black and amorphous, marked only by a pair of smoldering eyes, the rage in them pinned him to the ground alone. Before he could even think, the sable creature charged at him, its pitch mouth baring black teeth, hungry for his very soul.

Instinct forced him to duck and roll out of the way, but the crash of the creature’s miss caused him to slip, sending him tumbling across the ground. It growled and snarled as it tried to wrestle its head out of the ground. Link’s hand darted for his weapon, usually on his hip, yet he only grasped air.  
He was unarmed. He was vulnerable. 

Now his heart constricted, especially with the creature closer to freeing itself. With no sword on him, he saw only one option. All around within the fire’s arena were collapsed towers and walls cluttered on top of each other. All he could do was hide. 

Link managed to scramble onto his feet, darting for the first array of ruins he could reach. He almost skidded as he swung into the small opening that led to an equally cramped nook. It provided just enough room to obscure him from the outside, yet the stench of burning made him cough noxiously, so hard it felt like he was about to wrench out his very organs. The deep, rapid breaths his lungs swallowed made his own body feel at war with itself.

Pounding steps of a thousand pounds trembled the earth beneath him, dust and pebbles trickling from the low roof of his hiding spot. The creature’s loud snorts grew closer as it hunted for Link. As he folded into himself more to be smaller and smaller, a realization struck him. A sharp inhale brought a rush of dirtied air that almost made him cough again. 

He knew this place. He had been here before.

This was a nightmare. _The_ nightmare. Link’s childhood was plagued by such bad dreams, various distorting black things that chased and shrieked and clawed at him, however it was this one, being trapped in a ring of fire with a colossal creature of glowing eyes that caused him to fear sleeping all together. That same thing was still stomping around as its snarls crept into his ears. It was still searching for him, though its thundering steps grew weaker and weaker, further and further away.

 _Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ He cried as he tugged on his hair. He tried to form this into a physical sentence, yet he could still only mouth the words. Link envisioned himself snapping his eyes open, getting out of bed, seeing the real world that waited beyond. Liquid trickled down his fingers as his nails dug too hard into his skin, yet the nightmare persisted as he breathed in ash and smoke. 

_”Link?”_

Adrenaline kept him from truly jolting, but the voice that drifted through his mind, barely a whisper, made his body seize, and his heart jump. It hadn’t come from outside, it sounded within his skull. Again, an iota louder, _”Link…?_ ”

Before he could begin to wonder who or where exactly this newfound voice came from, an inhuman hand suddenly gripped the arch of the nook’s entrance, ripping the roof clean off. The creature towered above him as the flames grew higher. A thundering, earth-shattering roar of laughter erupted from its gaping mouth. The figure from beyond the fire shrieked a cry marred with panging helplessness. He could almost hear her scream “ _No!_ ”

A massive sword raised above Link’s head as the creature gave one last triumphant growl, but as it swung down -

 _”Link!_ ”

The world was torn like wet paper, the monstrous image dissolved into darkness as clean air filled his lungs. Soft cotton sheets and blankets provided warmth but sweat made them cling to his skin. A comfortable darkness surrounded him, penetrated by the light pouring from the door and by a single candle by his side.

“Link...are you ok?”

The voice from his dream was right beside him, now infinitely smaller. The sight of his father tied everything together, his usually stolid face creased with worried eyebrows as he curled a hand into his chest. Silence filled the gap of his question. Link went to wipe the wetness from his forehead, and all he did was simply nod.

Atalph swallowed as he took a step back. “I...I’m sorry...you were…” he cleared his throat. “You were thrashing and mumbling in your sleep like when...when you were young.” He paused for another moment, and then asked a trembling question of “is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” Link said as he tossed the blanket off of him and reached for his sword. Gripping its hilt brought a settling tranquility to his still thumping heart, the safety of being armed and the familiarity of its leather finish. His father had already cleared the way to the main room of their home, a small murmur of “I have food ready if you’re hungry.”

Something was missing as he followed Atalph to the dining mat, evident by the small amount of fried eggs, rice, and vegetables. “Where is Mother?”  
He nodded. “On a mission, she left as I was waking up.”

“Do you know where to?”

Here, Atalph froze a little. His face turned pale, and it seemed the bags under his eyes grew darker and his wrinkles deeper. “I-I don’t know what she was tasked with. She didn’t tell me.” He set down his chopsticks and ducked his head to utter a stifled apology. The conversation, like most Link had with his father, had met an early end. Silence filled the void as he quickly took in a bowl of rice and egg, finished by a banana. Atalph merely stared at the ground, letting his food go cold. There were no goodbyes as Link left. 

Mornings in the Yiga Clan had a certain air to them. Blademasters and foot soldiers had a hop in their step, many of them crowded around maps as their squadron leader pointed and traced around Hyrule’s towns. Students were chatting as they waited outside the classrooms, waiting for their teachers to arrive. Lanterns were lit, prayers echoed through the halls, marking the brand new day. The remnant fear of the nightmare melted away as home soothed his heart. Though guarding the princess left much to be desired, Link felt a little relieved at such an easy task after such restless nights.

At least, he did until he saw the soldiers stationed outside her cell.

Two blademasters looked over letters one held, and two foot soldiers stood at attention, motionless like statues. Link managed to get a syllable out before one of the blademasters interjected, holding one finger to her mask. 

“Shhh, the princess is sleeping. Let’s not wake her up just yet, my little moon.”

“Mother!” Link hissed, heeding her command as he softly jogged to her. “Mother, what are you doing here?”

“Why, this is where my day’s mission is, silly.” Luries said as she ruffled his hood. Her partner merely looked on. “Did no one tell you? Inconsiderate, really. This may be a punishment, but you deserve to be alerted in advance of things like this.”

“My apologies, Blademaster Luries,” the other whispered stiffly. “I thought it would be best for him to rest rather than hear what should happen today.”

Luries clicked her tongue and shook her head as she walked away from the two, putting her focus on the letters again. Link followed closely behind. What Stallade had said wasn’t coming true already, was it? His muscles had a mind of their own as his head swiveled to the direction of the cell. Yes, the princess was soundly asleep. 

“Has the informant supplied adequate information for your work, Blademaster?” the unknown elite asked as she resettled her armor. His mother giggled lightly at the inquiry.

“Well, no letter can ever compare to tracking a target for months, but yes, I say he did quite well.” Luries chirped as she folded the papers and tucked them into her belt. 

With immaculate quietude, Luries lifted the wooden bars, not so much as making a creak. The years of motherhood had her hands gentle as she picked up the slumbering princess, her cooing and shushing kept Zelda from waking up, her stirring quickly going still. She stopped and considered the girl in her arms for a moment. Link’s own hands twitched, but he kept himself tense. 

“Ah...you know Link,” Luries whispered excitedly as she came to his side. “I want you to join me. This will be an excellent way to see how to get information from a prisoner. Consider it one of your blademaster lessons from yours truly.”

So it _was_ true, and that feeling came to him again. Like there was a bird trapped in his chest that flapped its wings ardently, clawed at his ribcage to escape and fly free. His very bones wanted to shout and yell no, but this was a part of a Yiga’s duty. Without such reconnaissance, they were blind and deaf. He had to learn the ways his mother was apparently so skilled in. A wordless nod was what he gave at last, and that seemed to make Luries even more delighted. 

“I knew you would, my little moon. So eager to learn and prove yourself.” She leaned down and lightly bumped his mask with hers. “You can start right now. Interrogation takes a gentle hand, despite what you may think, and I can’t imagine any better practice than carrying her highness.”

Link hardly had time to reply before Luries lowered the princess to him. His arms came out instinctively, not so much as trembling as he took on her weight. He stood dead still for a few pressing moments as she unconsciously adjusted to the change. It was only when she resigned her head to resting on his shoulder did he allow himself to breathe. This was different than at Gerudo Town. Much different. Then, in the heat of the moment, she was nothing more than a burden, a weight on his back. Now, after the countless sleepless hours in the cell, comfort for the princess almost felt like a responsibility. 

“See? You’re a natural. Almost like you were made for this.” He could tell Luries was beaming. “Think you can handle the walk?”

He nodded silently, not risking a word to rouse Zelda. 

“One of the many reasons I love you so dearly. Come now! Let’s not waste any time.”

The trek from the lowly prisons to...wherever Luries had in mind was surprisingly short. Even the looks of confusion and narrowed eyes as they stepped through the main tunnels didn’t bother him much this time. Yet, trepidation slowed time almost to a halt, like it wanted to prevent the inevitable. Alas, the endless march could not be stopped. 

Their destination was at the end of one of the smallest paths in the hideout, so narrow they had to fall into a single file. This place held no decorations, no carvings, no pomp and circumstance. Only the deadly sheen of frequently used weaponry. They lined the walls in endless racks, each one unique and jagged. Some were sharpened to perfection, cleaned and polished with the look of a fresh forging. Others showed signs of more… frequent use. That ever squirming thing inside him thrashed even harder, but now Link had enough, putting a mental stomp of his foot in his mind. Somewhat, his skin stopped crawling, and he felt like the warrior he was meant to be. 

The room itself was rather plain. Only red cloth hung from the ceiling with torches on the walls, which only exaggerated the darkness within the confinement. A single wooden armchair stood in the middle all alone, worn and used itself. Strangely, there was also a bucket, filled to the brim with water.

“Now,” his mother whispered as she put a hand on his shoulder. “Place her gently on the chair, and bind her wrists to the arms with rope. Do you know how to tie a knot?” She merely laughed daintily at Link’s silence. “No worries, I’ll show you.”

The foot soldiers assumed positions, standing firm at opposite walls as Luries guided her son through the steps of securing the ropes. She told him to stand back and merely watch as one of the subordinates was designated to record any information given. With the smile on her face beaming through the opaque mask, she picked up the bucket. 

“Let us _truly_ begin,” Luries declared as she tossed the clear water onto the sleeping prisoner, drenching her completely.

Zelda awoke with a start, her wrists jolting from where they were tied down. Link flinched slightly at this, a near invisible instinct that his mother seemed to sense. She lowered a palm, signaling him to keep quiet. Though every voice in him was telling him to shout, he only nodded silently, reassuming his position with the guards. 

The princess blinked dully at first, ice water running down her face and soaking her hair. When she took in the scarlet banners dripping from the walls and ceiling however, struggle immediately kicked in. She pulled at the restraints, wrists already red from the rope. Her head lashed around desperately, panic only building as she spotted more and more Yiga gathered around her. An expected reaction. One that Luries could only smile in nostalgia over. 

“Awake now?” She crossed her arms and took her place squarely in front of the princess. “Good. We have much to discuss should you return to your father anytime soon.”

“What is this? What are you doing?” Zelda slowed her thrashing just to speak, her wrists still twisting in place. Link grimaced at the efficiency of his own knots. 

“You’ve been a highly sought after resource, princess. More than you know.” Luries said. Her feet moved slowly as she started to circle the prisoner. “Unfortunately, your royal guard seems to live up to its reputation. It wasn’t too smart running off in a place where they couldn’t get to you, was it?”

“I don’t understand.” Zelda said, her voice unsteady. 

“I’m sure you don’t understand, but you know what this is about, right?” Luries leaned her mask close to Zelda’s face from the side. “Our sources say you have quite the knack for seeking knowledge. As it turns out, we’re looking for the same thing. You happen to be the easiest way to find it.”

“Whatever you’re looking for, you won’t find it with me.” She lifted her chin a bit, leaning back to ease the stare of the red eye. 

“We’ll see.” Luries stood back up and walked to the front of the room. She gently traced a hand down one of the blades on the weapons rack. It was smaller than a windcleaver, though it came to a sharper point. “This is always the hardest part. No matter who comes through my door I never fail to stagnate here.”

“What do you mean?” Zelda’s eyes followed her hand as she went to trace another blade. This one had the steel teeth of a crocodile and sung a dull, metal tone when Luries strummed her fingers across it. To Link’s horror, this was the blade she grabbed ahold of. 

“Every door has its own key, right?” Luries approached with the sword, semi lovingly stroking the dull edge of the blade. “They all might fit into the same lock, but that doesn’t mean it’ll open, now does it? No matter how many times you prod and poke at it, you won’t be getting through without that one, special key.”

Link sucked in a breath as she swung the blade out to rest just millimeters away from Zelda’s neck. Her eyes bulged as she sucked down a scream, the glow of it’s jagged edge grinning back at her. The princess’ hair blew slightly at the force of the swing, a few, long moments passing as it settled down her back again. Luries could only laugh at the silence that followed. 

“Humans are the same.” The edge of the blade dug just slightly into the princess’s inner shoulder, no more painful than a bug bite. “We all have that key that gets us to open. Makes us talk. The hardest part is finding it.”

She abruptly pulled the sword away, swinging it back to rest on her shoulder. Zelda, and secretly Link, let out a shuddering sigh as she rested the blade back on its rack. The relief was short lived, however, as she went to examine the trove of other tools that rested high on the walls. 

Link could barely feel his body anymore. All feeling had been left at the door, outside of here, outside of this horrible place. The only thing that existed was the sickness that only grew every time he looked to a new weapon. Rugged pliers, thin needles, hammers, saws, sickles… all different keys for different doors. Some of them had long rusted over, stained brown with the poor souls who had been on the receiving end. He tried to scout out a somewhat merciful tool that his mother may use, but each one only made him more terrified. 

_Just make it quick,_ Link thought as his teeth grinded behind his mask. _Don’t make this longer than it needs to be._

Luries, it seemed, had every intention of making it last all day. She encircled the room, testing out each tool, even giving some a few test swings. Each one failed her unknowable tests, however, and each one was left discarded back on its rack. When she set down the final weapon, a barbed whip, Link felt immeasurable relief drip down his shoulders. His mother was picky, it would seem. Did she not have the right key, if Zelda had one at all?

“Krida?” Luries asked without facing the guards. A footsoldier immediately stepped forward, bending at the waist.

“How can I help you, Blademaster?” 

“I’d suppose it’s ready now, right?” She asked. 

“It’s past the incubation period.” The footsoldier answered dutifully. “It should be more than ready now.”

“Bring it to me.” Luries finally turned back, and Link could only feel the, what used to be, warm smile under her mask. “Now’s a better time than any to test it out.”

The footsoldier quickly retreated from the room, leaving it in silence. Luries had resigned herself to speaking quietly with another blademaster in the room, words so silent that even Link had a difficult time hearing. From his peripheral, Zelda had returned to tugging at her bonds. He had yet to make contact with her eyes the whole time. Even if he blended in with everyone else, her prying eyes seemed to simply know if the man behind the mask was him. With pity, he wondered what her goals were. Should she actually escape, did she really expect to make it through the countless soldiers in the room, let alone the entire hideout?

 _Of course, being surrounded by the enemy would be a prime moment for her sealing power to awaken,_ He thought. _Mother must know this. I wonder what she’s planning._

The footsoldier returned with surprising speed, a long bundle of cloth secured with a ribbon held close. 

“Thank you, Krida.” Luries accepted the bundle, and it was only then did Link realize it must be a sword. She balanced the long blade on her two hands, laying it out like a bridge between them. It was long, longer than a large bird’s wingspan, and based on the relief the footsoldier had when it left her grip, heavy. Like she was undoing a braid, his mother neatly pulled at the ribbon, letting the long red coil fall to the floor. The golden cloth came next, dripping off with the grace of a curtain as she undid its orderly folds. For a moment, all Link could feel was confusion. 

It was a sword, but unlike any he’d expect to be effective. From the point to its hilt, the blade was coated in a thick layer of rust. Luries examined it closely, scratching at its brown crust and weighing it in her hands. Link risked a glance at Zelda, but it appeared that she was just as confused as him, staring at the weapon with a furrowed brow. Finally, his mother held it out properly, her strength able to carry its immense weight with one arm. 

“This should do.” She snapped her fingers. “Hold the chair in place.”

Two foot soldiers stepped forward obediently, grabbing the two sides of the princess’s chair to prevent any shaking. She tried in spite, pulling at her restraints with a previously unseen force. Link thought that she might dislocate her own arm shoulder should she continue, until Luries put a stop to it.

“You consider yourself a scholar, don’t you?” She asked. “Tell me then, how long does rust tend to form?”

Zelda considered it for a moment. Not that she didn’t know the answer, but that she didn’t want to answer the blademaster.

“It depends on the metal.” She finally answered shakily. “Some, a few days. Others, weeks.”

“You’d be correct on that front.” Luries raised the blade as if to examine her reflection in it, but all she would see is rust. “Our windcleavers are forged from the finest steel. Rust barely touches it. Of course, nothing is invincible. What you’re seeing right now is five years worth of rusting on the finest sword available. The master wasn’t too keen on my little experiment, but looking at it now… this will surely be worth it.”

She suddenly dragged the tip of the blade across her hand, a slice that would normally leave a palm slit clean open. It didn’t so much as cut through her glove. She waved the unharmed hand in Zelda’s face like she had just made a coin disappear. 

“Duller than bone.” She said. “You’d have to try awfully hard to stick someone with this thing. And with the rust, the results would surely be devastating.”

Zelda’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what was about to happen. Her struggling stopped, her kicking followed, and soon, all she could do was stare. 

“You can’t.” She whispered. “Please…”

“We can avoid this, princess.” Luries said with a guise of sympathy over her voice. “All you have to do is tell us what we need to know.”

“I don’t know anything!” Zelda cried. “You sick thieves! Why must you do this?”

“So be it.” Luries sighed and walked behind the prisoner. A diamond shaped hole was cut out of the chair, exposing Zelda’s mid back. The blademaster reached out and lightly prodded at her back through the hole. “Can you feel that?”

When she got no answer, she gave a sharp pinch to the princess’s spine, earning a shocked yelp. 

“I’m guessing that was a yes.” Luries chuckled. She positioned the blade at the center of the diamond, just barely making contact with Zelda’s body. “Remember, this will only last as long as you allow it. Cooperate, and maybe you won’t have a rusted pole hanging out of your back.”

“Stop!” She reflexively tried to lean away from the sword, but the two footsoldiers stationed next to her made it so that escape was impossible. “I don’t know what you could possibly want! Please!”

“Then I’ll begin with my first question.” Luries secured her footing and began to slowly dig the point of the blade into the princess’s back. “Where are you hiding the hero?”

“W-What? There is no hero!” Zelda’s face was beginning to drain of color, sweat replacing the water doused on her face. “We haven’t found them! I promise!”

“I’m afraid I’ll need a little more than that.” She tisked and applied more pressure to the sword. “Hiding him would provide ample shelter from assassinations. Do you think I'm dull?”

“I swear it!” She shrieked as she felt its impact. “The whole army has tried the sword! We don’t have him!”

“Taking his identity to the grave, hm? I almost respect it.” Luries said. “It’s only the beginning. I expect a full answer when it’s halfway through your torso.”

“I wouldn’t lie! Please!” 

“Let’s cover a more concrete topic then, yes?” Luries pushed the blade forward a bit more, another pained gasp coming from Zelda. Link flinched at this, his hand flying up to cup his increasingly nauseous stomach. Thankfully, his mother never saw. “Who are the champions? Who have you chosen to pilot the Divine Beasts?”

“I- please… I don’t…” She took in a shuddering breath. “We don’t have them yet.”

“Liar.” Luries sighed and applied a sudden shove of pressure. Zelda’s whole upper body contorted at the dull pain, unable to stifle her cry. “You can’t hide from the eye of the Yiga. Your whole intention behind the trip to Gerudo Town was to recruit Chief Urbosa, correct? Think before you speak lies, girl.”

Link nearly ran forward, anything to separate Luries from the princess, but he kept himself firmly in place with a bite to the tongue. This was wrong. His _mother_ was wrong. But this was his suggestion. He wanted to keep her alive, but in doing so he was only causing her more pain. Why did he even care? Why was this so horrible?

“So? Who are the others?” Luries had already continued the interrogation, not giving Zelda so much as a moment to breathe. “Speak before I split your spine.”

“Master Revali of Rito Village is the only other contender I planned to contact! I swear on the goddess!” She had been reduced to hyperventilating now, the sword only digging further into her torso. 

“Did you get that?” His mother turned briefly to a Yiga with a scroll, who was feverishly writing down the name of the Rito. “We’ll make sure he receives a few visitors, princess. Don’t you worry.”

She couldn’t answer. Not with the feverish shaking of her head and the silent sobs coming from deep within her chest. Luries had yet to relent, however. The sword had surely left a mark by now, mere millimeters from piercing her body. Link had never felt so powerless, and he didn’t doubt that Zelda felt the same. 

“I’m pleased you’re willing to speak now. Shall we return to the pressing question?” Luries said. She looked briefly to Link, and he felt a wave of dread fall over him when he realized she had meant to wink at him. “I’ll ask one, final time. Who is the hero?”

Zelda’s struggle ceased in an instant. For a moment, Link thought she had simply resigned herself to giving up, letting his mother pierce her back. Slowly, however, she lifted her head. Through the curtain of her hair, her gaze cut through him like a knife. She had recognized him again. For the sake of his sanity, he had passed off the time back in the cave as a fluke, a simple show of her intuition. There was no denying it now, however. Out of all the Yiga in attendance, her eyes had gone straight to him, and they held nothing but certainty within. 

“I… don’t know.” She said softly. 

“Your choice.” Luries shrugged.

She shoved the hilt forward, and the tip of the blade pierced through Zelda’s back. 

Link could barely hear her scream. His whole body had been doused in a cold, unfeeling numbness. Was he even in his body anymore? All he knew was the rush of sickness that had suddenly taken over his stomach and threatened to come up his throat. He couldn’t control his feet. They moved on their own as he left his position, unconsciously shoving a few of his kin out of the way. 

He stumbled past his mother, who was now staring in shock as Link left the room. He was a bigger concern to her than the blood leaving the princess’s body. The footsoldiers were holding her steady, gripping her shoulders as Luries pulled the sword back out. She must have screamed again. If she did, it was far beyond Link’s ability to perceive. He needed out. He needed to be far away.

His stomach only allowed him to go a few steps away from the door.

Link’s knees buckled as he dry heaved behind his mask, clutching the wall for support. He grabbed fruitlessly at his mask. It was suffocating him, but his hand snapped back to his side before he could snatch it off. Another dry heave sent him to his knees, forehead pressed against the floor as he wrapped his arms around his abdomen. He could hear her now. The clattering of the sword as Luries left it abandoned, the hushed hisses of foot soldiers trying to keep Zelda quiet, and the stifled cries of the princess.

He could hear it all. And all of it was his fault.


	7. Chapter 7

The days marched on, endlessly and without mercy. As though the sun of the desert could pierce through the layers of rock which the Yiga hid under. As though the cold winds of its night chased them through the twisting tunnels that led to them. And in the silence of the prison cells, time only turned ever more slowly.

Little was eaten over those hours of daylight. A small bowl of rice for breakfast, and another for dinner. Although his mother expressed her worries, _“you typically eat a whole pound of food for dinner, is something wrong? You can tell me,”_ it was the best Link could do to avoid truly vomiting whenever the master called for another interrogation. Luries invited him again to observe or perhaps even be the one to record, but he declined. Again the next day, and again following that. He could sense her disappointment, a slight frown from the single-eyed mask, but when he felt acid creep up his throat as the division came to collect Zelda, he knew couldn’t last another “lesson.”

 _Powerless_ was not a feeling he was accustomed to as he waited for the distant interrogation to be over. No Yiga could be so. They were trained since birth to fight and fend for themselves, so that they would never just sit idly by. Yet remembering the first one, where all he did was watch her suffer under the hand of his mother, that was all he could do. This was his idea after all, and what could he do? Protest? Keep Luries and her subordinates from the cell on his own? Powerless, totally and utterly. 

_Please just give up everything you know,_ Link thought desperately, as though he could somehow get his message into her dreams through sheer willpower alone when she was whisked away this morning. _And this will all be over, and you won’t return sobbing and bleeding._

The incoherent chattering of the torches was all he could hear as he waited. It was all he wanted to hear. Perhaps, without their eternal babble, he could hear her screams from here. A possibility that caused his stomach to twist violently, and he quickly shoved it aside, focusing on the fire’s language as hard as he could. Such ardent concentration that hearing soft padding down the stairs surprised him. It was only one pair of footsteps, so it wasn’t Luries and her assistants returning.

Instead, Link was met with the slim figure of a priestess. Her abyssal black robes seemed to swallow her whole, the hems dragging across the stone floor, same with her long, stark white hair. Her mask peeked out from under the wide brim of the straw hat as she picked up her head from a small bow. “Blademaster Link, son of Luries and Atalph, correct?” she asked in a low murmur, almost inaudible. He swallowed, and nodded.  
She nodded back. “Master Cadraz has summoned you for an audience. Allow me to guide you there.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned away and began to walk for the exit of the dungeons. He had no choice but to follow her. Priestesses were not warriors first, yet this one showed signs of such rigorous training. Her footsteps made little noise, and she almost seemed to glide through the halls as she kept her head bent down. There was a somewhat comforting lack of talking as they made the way to the council room, one the priestess was content to break.

“I saw you visited the main shrine the other day, left an offering of safflina,” she said, nearly causing Link to trip. “Very few decide to pray in that room, Blademaster. Even for us it is...overwhelming.”  
He held his tongue. Priestesses were known to be rather eccentric, often they secluded themselves and spoke only to each other when nobody needed them for ceremonies. Despite being homebound, they never took off their masks, their faces lost to memory. They were still Yiga however, their trusted kin, yet Link couldn’t help but wonder if this one was trying to prove something.

“If I may be so probing, why did you visit it? What did you pray for?” she inquired, bringing her head up to look at him with the single inverted eye. Her small hands, once folded, rose with furthered curiosity. 

A direct ask was not expected, and Link had to think carefully. Her voice was dulcet and innocent, but he could tell she was definitely suspicious of him as he was of her.  
He tilted his head down, trying to come with an answer...and then he had to stop himself in those thoughts. Why suspect someone who was the highest authority of their own deity? If anything, that should make her even more motherly. Seconds ticked by as the silence grew, he spent too long to answer. Finally, he forced out, “for guidance.”

The priestess hummed and brought her head back down. “Guidance...after being assigned to guarding a cell...I suppose there’s something about that deeply troubling you.”

She didn’t know, did she? He was alone that day, she didn’t eavesdrop as he prayed or read his mind as they were walking...she couldn’t have. Was she toying with him? Why did he doubt her? One of his own, and he was pushing them away. Why, why, _why?_

Before she could ask further, they arrived at the council room. The priestess merely bowed, giving her blessing before leaving for her own path. The blademasters guarding the chamber said nothing as they opened the door, and with sickness pooling down his body, he made the trudging steps forward.

10 eyes landed on him, of the living and the dead above them. Freezing cold air still hung around them, yet there was no wind. The corpses of the ancients now seemed wholly dead, their voices gone to the sands of time, exanimate and unmoving. 

Persistent, however, was their judging gaze. 

“Blademaster Link,” the clipped voice called, bringing his mind back to the present. The present 5 who looked on, living and breathing. Even Sage Kohga sat to attention, seeming more regal and authoritative than he ever possibly had before. They all turned to Cadraz when he spoke. 

“Word has reached me that you have declined Blademaster Luries’ invitations to observe the interrogations,” he said, as motionless as his predecessor above him. In fact, all of them were still like statues. Link held his breath, waiting for what they had planned. He continued, “while such behavior is inconsiderate on your word, I will allow it to be graced with impunity.”

Cadraz cleared his throat. No one dared to speak. “The princess has provided useful information. We have gained the identities of the contenders for Hyrule’s champions, and the kingdom’s research into our ancestors’ technology..” 

Another pause. Was this intentional? Cadraz had to know that this was torture for Link. Nothing escaped his grasp. Nothing. Still he waited. Link could only keep his entire body from trembling. “However, one crucial piece evades us; the knight who seals the darkness...remains anonymous.”

The master shook his head as Link combated the flood of nausea. The deal they had made was now to be fulfilled. A deal Link couldn’t speak against. It was his own words that sealed her fate. 

“So, I am afraid that she must be executed. Though the sword’s chosen is a formidable foe, he is nothing without the princess who wields the sacred power.” Cadraz gestured to the etchings on the wall, where the hero of 10,000 years past looked over an army of soldiers. “Without her, he can only fight Lord Ganon endlessly, and a mortal, even of the hero’s reincarnation, cannot win such a war of attrition.”

Link bowed his head. “Then victory is ensured for us.”

The master hummed affirmatively. “Not just for us, but for our ancestors who lost everything dear to them. For the Calamity. I understand that you may feel disappointed, but soon you will celebrate with us in the new world Lord Ganon will usher once he emerges triumphant.”

Though the mask hid emotion, Link could tell that his hands started to quiver against his will. Such a future he was raised to fight and kill and die for, however all he could see was darkness, an all consuming abyss. His duty came first, no matter the aberrant, irrational emotions he felt now. Yki spoke. A time. Tomorrow, at the sun’s peak, the execution will be held. Just as she finished, Cadraz dismissed him to return to his position. 

_Perhaps that is just it,_ he thought desperately as he turned to leave. _Once she’s gone, I will feel normal again. I’ll be happy that our victory is secured. The hero will lose, and the land and glory that we yearned for...for millennia will be rightfully gifted to us. I will. I’m sure of it._

It was like fitting a square into a circle.

Luries must have finished her final session while he was away. A group of foot soldiers walked away from the cell as he returned. They didn’t even spare him a hello. They hustled together in a pack, masks down turned and voices quiet. New soldiers, most likely, gossiping about how they helped the condemned princess back to her cell. If they even knew about her fate. By the time they had disappeared out of the dungeon, Link still hadn’t taken his position in front of the cell.

He stood almost frozen, his body not allowing him to look behind the bars. The past few days, when the princess was returned from the interrogation, there was at least a quiet, brief sniffling before she settled down. Now, under the crackling of dying torches, he didn’t hear anything at all. 

_She’s dead_ , his brain immediately thought. _They went too far. There won’t even be a need for an execution._

Even with the amount of certainty that held these thoughts up, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread as he unwillingly approached her cell. His eyes tried to squint, to block out his vision, but he kept them open with a pinch to his palm. The princess slowly loomed into view, and for a few horrifying moments, she didn’t move. It was only when she released a sigh did Link allow himself to breathe. 

Zelda was curled up in her usual corner, knees tucked into her chest as her arms sat useless behind her. Her hair had lost its luster over the past few days, becoming a matted nest neglected from any combing. She hid her face away from behind its wall, content with resting her head against the corner. Her clothes, previously shining of her status, became just as muted as she was, coated in the dust of the cell. A great bundle of bandages had been wrapped around her torso from the first day, now yellowed with neglect. The entire sight was pitiful, a fact that Link hated to acknowledge. But it was the sight of the bandages, the stained, haphazard wad around her back that sent him into uncontrollable action. 

He approached the bars, windcleaver remaining sheathed and harmless at his side. For a few seconds, he waited for the princess to speak to him, to concede his presence. But no such thing came. She only sat in silence, just as Link had for the days of his guarding duty. 

“Princess.” He nearly grimaced at the sound of his own voice, alone and empty among the walls of the abandoned dungeon. 

Another moment of silence. He bit his lip. 

“Princess, I… it’s beyond my duty, however…” Link forced out a sigh. “I wish to know the state of your injuries.”

He didn’t think even that got her attention until the prisoner moved. She shifted like an aged cog, her dirtied hair moving to reveal her face. Link’s stomach nearly plummeted at the mere sight. Zelda had been holding back tears, it would seem. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the fire, face wet and reddened like a plum. He sucked in a breath and maintained his posture. He may be overstepping his bounds, but he would do so with propriety. 

“I don’t know.” Zelda said with a hoarse, worn voice. 

He was gutted. Utterly and completely. It seemed avoiding the interrogations had allowed his mother to get away with more than he previously thought. While she didn’t seem horribly injured aside from the back wound, there was no telling if she was subjected to more discreet, temporary tortures. If he was serious about finding out…

“Will you allow me to check?”

Zelda seemed taken aback by the offer, her eyes widening at the mere prospect. Overcoming her shock, she quickly nodded, sitting up from where she had previously been leaning. Link sighed and checked over his shoulder, ensuring that they were well and truly alone. Only Ganon knew what might happen should someone discover him checking the princess for additional injuries, a task that, in the event of her execution tomorrow, was ultimately futile. But repaying her for the mistakes he made on the mission was the least he could do in his mind. Even if it was to be her last night alive. 

_I guess I’m actually doing this_ , he thought, lifting the wooden bars with a grunt. He didn’t put an escape attempt past the princess, almost expecting her to lunge at him the first chance she got. Zelda remained seated however, waiting for him to approach. Link almost felt the need to raise his hands to remind her that he would bring her no harm. This seemed to not be necessary, however. She didn’t seem threatened by his presence, albeit intimidated by the mask that he shared with her torturer. 

“We both need to be quiet so no one comes in here.” He sank to a knee to reach eye level with her, and she answered with a strained nod.“So, where does it hurt the most?”

It seemed even sitting on her knees was a challenge. She pressed her lips together in a pained expression as she settled on her legs, turning slightly to face away from Link. Her hand twisted from its cuffed spot to point at her back. He met the dark stain on the bandages with a grimace. 

“I see. From the first day, correct?” He wasn’t quite sure what to do. All Yiga are taught basic medical care in their youth in the off chance a mission goes awry, classes that Link always seemed to ace, but an untreated stab wound wrapped up and left to fester? It seemed too much, even for him. Still, leaving it alone after coming this far seemed to just be sealing the princess’s fate. Even if… tomorrow…

“Yes.” She answered, her voice low both from his instructions and the exhaustion. “She only did it once. It still… it still hurts.”

“Can I look at it?” 

“Please.” She said. He could hear the tension in her voice. It would only be a matter of time before an infection took her out if one had formed. As gently as he could, he undid the tie on the bandage, slowly peeling it from her torso. It had been haphazardly applied over her tunic, which showed the preserved and pristine blue fabric below. Unraveling the bandage was an awkward task itself, looping his arms behind Zelda’s tied hands to pull it through. The princess only sat still, letting the Yiga prepare to examine her wound. 

He reached the last layer of bandages and sucked in a breath. It was a shallow wound, lucky enough to have just pierced the skin of her back. There was no such thing as a good stab wound, however. And this was no exception. The sword had cut a small section of her tunic, leaving the injury in clear view. Near the entirety of her mid back had been soaked in aged blood, spilling downward as the medics neglected to clean the wound. All at once Link regretted removing the bandages, as the bleeding resumed once it was relieved of all that pressure.

“ _Damn…_ ” He murmured, immediately moving to temporarily wrap it back up. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked, concern clinging to her voice. 

“It’s infected. I’ll need to treat it and switch the bandages.” He said, retying them into place to prevent any further bleeding. “Stay here. I’m going to get a few herbs that will help.”

It took all of his power to leave the princess again, slinking through the bars. In his hurry, he had forgotten to lock the bars back in place. This was a detail he never even noticed, even as he returned from searching through his family’s aid stash. The princess was in no position to try to escape either, still glued to her spot on the floor. He half expected another Yiga standing outside the cell in a confused rage, asking why in his right mind he had left Zelda unattended. Ganon forbid they spot the smuggled medicinal herbs hidden around his uniform. Luck seemed to be on his side, however.

He returned with a pail and a rag, along with as many handfuls of his mother’s herb stash as he could hide. Most were tucked inside of his hood, but a good deal of them were also piled on behind Link’s own mask. He left them tumble out before he came into the princess’s line of sight again. Unfortunately, they left a strong, pungent smell behind on the inside of his mask. Their effects were as potent as their aroma, fortunately. 

“I got the essentials.” Link said as he stepped back into her cell, ducking his head underneath the bars and setting them down quietly. With a careful hand he laid out all of what he thought he would need. New bandages, hyrule herbs, hearty radishes, and cool safflina to stifle the heat of the pain.“Hopefully this will ease some of the infection.”

“You know how to heal?” Zelda asked, her voice slightly above a murmur. Link nodded and dipped the rag within the cool water of the pail, wringing it out as he spoke.

“As much as anyone else.” He said. “Basic medical aid, infections, all around keeping someone alive. It’s as important as knowing your sword.”

“I never would have thought…” She left her sentence trail off, instinctively leaning away as Link approached on his knees. 

“I’ll need to unwrap your bandage again. It’s no doubt that you need stitches, but unfortunately I don’t have such resources on hand.” Zelda took this in with a nod, shuffling around so Link could focus on the more pressing injury. “The best I can do is stave off the infection.” _As if the execution would be any more merciful._

“Do what you must.” She simply said. Her body stiffened as Link undid his haphazard wrapping of the bandages, finally letting them pile on the floor next to him when they were off. The bleeding from before hadn’t stopped, trickling from the heart of the stab wound. He would need to move quickly, if anything.

He went to reach for the rag, only to realize the blood was dripping onto Zelda’s bound hands. Her fingers squirmed uncomfortably at this, the princess taking in a sharp breath when she realized what she was feeling. _I might as well,_ Link thought with an uncertain grimace. 

“I might need to undo your wrists to make the job easier. I can trust you, can I?”

Zelda was nodding before he even got the chance to finish. His chest released a sigh, and ever so carefully, he unsheathed his windcleaver. She didn’t budge an inch as he just barely dragged the tip across the knot of the rope. The threads frayed and split immediately, unable to withstand the point of the blade. The princess kept her hands behind her back as Link unraveled the rope completely, making sure it was completely removed from her wrists.

His breath hitched as he saw the state of her wrists. They had both been rubbed raw, skin flaking and redder than a voltfruit. The skin, nearly shaved down to the vein, glistened grimly in the lowlight. Combined with the blood pouring from her back, it was enough to make him sick.

“I may have to do more than I thought…” He thought aloud, unconsciously running a hand across her rope burn. She inhaled sharply at the touch, quickly yanking it back to her front. “Oh! Sorry, I just…”

The princess, however, seemed less than concerned about his accidental touch. She stared, eyes bulging in horror at the state of her wrists. It seemed as though she longed to touch the reddened flesh herself, only to draw back in fear that it would shatter under her fingertips. Link briefly thought it was merciful that she was unable to see the wound on her back. 

“I can try to clean it if you’d like.” He said, unsure as to how to speak to her again. She was silent for a few moments, watching the blood on her hands drip back down her forearms. Her head turned back, eyes once again striking right through that mask of his.

“I would like that very much.”

She sat on her knees facing him, hands held out as he wiped away the blood gently with a washcloth. Even though his head was down, focusing on not touching the sensitive skin on her arms, he could feel her staring intently at him. No amount of disguise could hide him from that gaze, even if he didn’t meet her eye. It was almost becoming unbearable. Diverting her attention was necessary, but it seemed she was a step ahead of him again.

“Yiga.” She hesitated on the first letter of his name for a moment. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t enjoy needless suffering” Link said, which in it’s own way, was true. If he ever needed to kill, he would do so with finality and mercy. Though he hadn’t approached such a situation yet, he felt the dreaded decision crawl closer by the day. “Why? Does it hurt?”

“Only stings, but that’s to be expected.” She said quietly. Finally, her eyes left him and looked to her own wrists, held delicately by Link. The water dripped red as it fell to the dirt floor, melting under a fresh rain. “I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“Your life at the castle must have been very different.” Link felt himself ask, speaking as though she was simply another clan member. He saw her smile weakly from his peripheral at that.

“It seems a distant memory now.” She said, and then with a surprisingly light tone said, “If I knew where I would end up I wouldn’t have skipped breakfast.”

Link was grateful for the mask, for he smiled under its surface. 

For a moment though, he was careless with the rag, accidentally gliding it across her burn. She gasped at that, going rigid and attempting to pull away, but Link placed his hand over hers to keep it still. 

“It’s alright. I’ll need to clean these as well.” He said. “Can you tell me more about the castle?”

She nodded and spoke with a shaky breath, “I’ve lived there my whole life. The halls seem to never end, and I would pace them endlessly. I never thought I’d miss them.”

“I know what that’s like.” Link almost laughed, thinking back to getting lost countless times in the tunnels as a trainee. “The castle looks awfully big. If it weren’t so out there it would be a hideout of its own.”

Zelda sucked in a breath as he gently graced her wrists with the rag, cleaning out any dirt or stubborn thread from the rope. “You’re doing okay.” Link said. “I’m going to use some of the herbs to clear up anything harmful. Keep telling me about this castle of yours.”

“Well… it’s very warm. Especially sunny. Before my trip to Gerudo Town I spent a week in the library reading up on their customs in the light of the window. Of course, I had already read all our volumes on the topic many times, but it can’t hurt to have a refresher.” Link listened as she spoke, rubbing the Hyrule herbs together between his palms. While her voice was still significantly strained, it seemed to lighten up a bit as she spoke of her home. He suppressed a twinge of guilt as he remembered it would be a home she would never be returning to. Not in this life, at least. 

“So you study? Or read, at least.” He asked, casually juicing the herbs over her outstretched wrists. She cringed as its medicinal properties made contact with her skin, but continued despite the pain. 

“It’s at the very least a hobby.” She said, her voice suddenly going demure. “When you have so many resources, it's hard not to take advantage of them.”

“You seemed interested in the clan when Blademaster Syhl carried you in.” He said, placing down the husks of the herbs and rubbing the juice further into her skin. 

“If panic can be described in such a way.” She nearly huffed, though her ears had perked up a bit at the mention of a name. “You Yiga certainly achieve the secrecy you strive for. There are hardly any research materials provided for them. Seeing the inside of the hideout was almost dreamlike. A nightmare, yes, but dreamlike.”

“I’m flattered,” Link said, the herbs nearly fully rubbed in, “though, I’m almost also as flattered by your trust in me. I share the same face as your interrogator yet you trust me to clean your wounds.”

The princess merely dropped her head. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then once more again. “You...compared to the others who pressed for my immediate death, you proved your trust by arguing for...this outcome. You’re still a Yiga, but more merciful than I ever expected from your kind.”

A stifled gasp came from her when he pressed a fresh herb to her back. “I thought that the outside world sees us as ruthless killing machines,” he said quickly, another distraction. “Some say the first master encouraged us to embrace the hatred Hylians had for us, to show that we stand for ourselves, and will never bow to the Kingdom.”

“A fight for freedom...that’s how it’s seen here…” she mumbled, taking short breaths in response to the medicinal liquid oozing from the herbs onto the stab wound. It did seem to look better, cleaner and healthier. Link put down the dry herbs to a pile, and took the safflina. It was meant to relieve pain, so he let a comforting silence fill between them as he crushed the flowers in his palm, lathering the oil around the puncture. 

“Do you remember the first question I asked you, on the first day?” Zelda said, keeping her face away from him. Link was in the middle of dripping the safflina liquid onto her wrists when she asked. Somehow, he could remember those words with total clarity.

“You asked of your fate then.” He replied. “I affirm you, it’s true that it relies on your compliance.

A sniff escaped her as she dropped her head down, letting her blood-caked hair drift with it. “I...I gave that blademaster everything I knew. I surrendered the names of the champion contenders, the research into ancient technology, even the few army positions I could get a hold of before....” Her voice faltered and cracked, almost turning into a sob. Almost so heartbreaking.

Her hands balled into a fist, and she took a quiet breath in, her voice going into a low mumble. “She kept asking for the identity of the hero’s reincarnation...please, trust me, we tried all of the royal guard, the standard army, every male, young and old, from every village...we can’t find him. We don’t know if he died unknowingly or if he’s hiding from us… _we don’t have him_.”

A small glimmer of reflected torchlight fell to the ground. Link let her hands leave his weak grasp to cup her face as more glistening tears rolled down her cheeks and fingers. She knew to heed his warning, but once every note her sobbing hitched shrill and high, enough to echo through the cell. Pity for the prisoner wasn’t new to him, no matter how he detested it, but something came from deep inside. A thought not his own, words belonging to someone else. Still, it remained unintelligible. A different language, a series of clicks, an indecipherable script. No way to read it, no way to understand.

He almost replied in his own voice, but Zelda turned around and silenced him with that same piercing look. The one that saw through his opaque mask. In a faltering, cracking whisper, she murmured, “I have nothing left to give...what awaits me now?”

The same dilemma hit now. To tell the impending truth, or a warm lie. A snap decision brought the same words from the first day. “I promised that it laid with your compliance. I didn’t...lie there. You’ll be returned to your precious castle, I can assure you that.”

The princess merely looked at him, her eyebrows furrowing, her mouth pressed into a thin line. She turned back around, cupping her hands. “...I see. I think...I think I don’t need any more treatment. Thank you.”

“Your other wrist should still-” Link was cut off by the faint sound of footsteps. Any louder he spoke, he would’ve missed it. Two pairs this time, the guard replacement was coming. Too early, much too early.

“Others are approaching,” he hissed as he stuffed the used materials into his hood, the bulky radishes he hadn’t had the chance to use stuffed further down the cloth. The knot he made out of the shorter rope was visibly loose, but any was better than none. “Don’t say a word, or we’re both dead.”

The princess merely resigned herself to a rather tragic look, letting her hair obscure her face as she curled into the corner. Link closed the wooden bars, but before he could secure the lock, the two turned down the path into visibility. It was the priestess again, but she wasn’t escorting a blademaster, but rather a simple footsoldier. 

“Ah, Blademaster Link,” the priestess said reverently. The footsoldier stayed quiet. “The Master said you could retire earlier than usual, well deserved I believe. There’s not much use to guarding this cell anymore, is there?”

He shook his head in agreement, hopefully his pounding heart was drowned by the crackling firelight. “Send Master Cadraz my gratitude if you can,” he sighed. He wanted to say more, but the footsoldier took in a long, deep breath, and gave him a pointed look. 

“Why does it smell like the healer’s room?” she asked, in a distinctly hostile, familiar tone. 

The priestess sniffed the air as well. “Cool safflina...general herbs…” she mumbled to herself, folded hands staying still. Her head tilted. “That is strange. It’s usually just smoke and tears down in the prisons.”

The footsoldier looked over, stepping closer to the cell. “The lock isn’t secured either.”

It had to be heard now. He was too sloppy, let the princess talk for too long. Caught like a fish on a hook, now he could see himself dead alongside her. The footsoldier fastened the bars, and thrummed her fingers on the rocky wall. “Is the interrogation division this sentimental? Gotta keep the prisoner in top shape for the next torture session?”

Was that what the footsoldier believed, or was this another trick? To catch him? He won’t fall for either, even if his grip on the wind cleaver’s hilt was about to snap the thing in half. The priestess chuckled a bit, “or keep the oblation alive for Lord Ganon.” She then proceeded to cackle at her own joke. Hardly a joke. She knew what was to happen, most definitely. She wanted to taunt him. 

The footsoldier crossed her arms and stared at Link in pressing quietude. Not releasing his grip, he caught the silent message and moved out of the way. She stepped into his place, taking in a good survey of the prisoner. “They didn’t seem to bother, she’s still covered in blood. Probably just painkillers, to keep her from passing out.”

“Oooh, perhaps so. Blademaster Luries would definitely do that, such an innovative woman.” The priestess said, then she held her hands out to Link. “Yes yes, you are free to rest now. I hope you keep your stomach tomorrow!” She laughed again. He stayed still. “Oh what a glorious day. I hope it doesn’t snow…”

Her mutterings grew dim as she walked out of the dungeons. Link wanted to look back, but the suspicions of the footsoldier were clear, and her tone was growing unbearable. He couldn’t give them fuel, or evidence. He had to walk away.

In stride, he stood up straight, and stepped to face the princess’s final sunset that she would never get to see.


	8. Chapter 8

It seemed even Link couldn’t escape the eye of the Yiga. In the dead of dawn, he stood before the mirror in his family’s main room, the bloody eye of his mask staring right back. It had been nearly a struggle to get it on this morning, even without the fatigue of a sleepless night. It was Zelda’s final day. All because of the face behind the mask. He had half a mind to rip it back off again, but his arm hung like a hooked fish at his side. The numbness was all he knew now. Anything to block the inevitable pain of the execution. 

He didn’t even feel Luries approach from behind, only noticing her presence when her mask lowered next to his. 

“Good morning, little moon. You’re certainly up early.” She said, her voice just barely resisting a yawn. “Is something troubling you? I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to get you up myself.”

Link certainly could, but he kept this to himself.

“I wanted to make sure I wouldn’t miss the execution.” Link said. A half-truth. Sleep had evaded him the entire night, leaving little outside the imminent execution for his brain to think about. Now, he simply wanted to get it over with, leaving the burden of caring about the princess behind. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how this is affecting you.” She said, fluffing the tuft on the top of his hood. “I know what it’s like to pity the imprisoned. Yet, it is our duty to punish those who have punished and prevent the preventable. That princess may seem innocent today, but will she look the same to you when she leads a charge against our home? Against our families?”

“You’re right.” Link nodded, but her words only bounced uselessly against his ears. “I almost let it get the better of me.”

“It hurts. Trust me, I know. But our enemies hurt worse.” Their home was eerily quiet behind her voice. It almost reminded him of the sound crushing void of the prayer room. He wished that the candles he had lit would spare at least a whisper of a crackle, but they were as silent as the Yiga himself. “When the sun arcs at noon, the Calamity will be ensured. We’ll be free, Link. _Free_. Let it happen.”

The words were a wet blanket; sewed for comfort, but only succeeding in making him cold. Every word was true. Should the royal family ever find the hideout, their days were numbered. No amount of prayer nor blademasters would protect them from the full force of the Divine Beasts, let alone the Hyrulean army. Zelda could not survive. Not if they wanted to live. Not if they wanted the Calamity. 

Despite their guaranteed victory, Link could feel sickness bubbling within his throat. The feeling crept from his gut, spreading through his body and seizing it like a parasite. Touch was far away, warmth even further. All that remained was the bitter cold reality of their future. _His_ future. 

Even the thought of it was enough to make him want to scream. Yet, all that came out was, “Thank you, mother. I’ll face it the best I can.”

Luries squeezed him into a hug, Link’s arms bound to his side as she pulled him in with her own. 

“You can’t imagine how proud I am to be your mother. I’m honored to be able to enter the new world with you and Altie.” She sighed, and Link quickly feared that she would be able to smell his hood still fragrant with herbs. If she did, she said nothing of it, leaning out of the hug with a grin no doubt under her mask. “It’s more than I ever imagined. My boys, my _family_ , all together for the Calamity. I have half a mind to thank the princess for letting it happen.”

Link gave the best laugh he could muster as he pried himself from his mother’s grip. “There’s still a chance to, you know.”

“I’m sure Master Cadraz will certainly drive the point home.” She gave her own laugh. “This is a once in a millennia event. I pray you will never forget it.”

Link nearly responded, affirming that he indeed would never forget watching the only person capable of sealing the Calamity be slain like cattle, before the shuffling of slippers brought both of their attention to the room archway. 

“Ah! Good morning, Altie.” Luries quickly left Link’s side to greet her husband, pulling him in and nuzzling the side of his face with her bone-white mask. He took the greeting with his usual tired expression, hair mused and eye circles dark from the early rising. “I was about to wake you myself. You don’t want to miss the feast later tonight, do you?”

“No,” he answered simply. With a quick glance of eye contact with his father, Link knew that he was anything but truthful. The Hylian was normally excited for feasts, if excited was even an emotion he could feel anymore. A feast preceded by an execution, however…it was a far different story. 

“And… well… I know what this means for you too.” She said quietly, so much so that Link could barely hear it. She slipped her fingers through Atalph’s and held his hand close to her heart. “Just know I’ll be there. Let me know if you need me, okay?”

His father only nodded, staring dully into the red eye. For once, he could somewhat understand how the man felt. The endless numbness… was this his fate as well?

The morning passed like a slow, funeral procession. Luries helped Atalph cook a modest breakfast, being seared quail and one banana each for them. The feast later tonight would fill their stomachs enough. If Link even had the appetite to eat afterward. He scrubbed the dishes until they were on the verge of chipping as his father got ready. Would the execution pass as slowly as this dreadful morning? He silently prayed to Ganon to spare the princess of any pain, ending it with a quick jut of the blade. Though, he knew such a prayer would go unanswered. Especially if the executioner had any say in it. 

If anything, his prayer for a speedy morning was answered. As the sun rose higher outside the hideout, voices and crowds began to congregate outside their door. Children and elders alike chatted excitedly as they swarmed about. Some, in typical fashion, were only jittery in anticipation of the largest feast in their lifetime. Most however were no doubt smiling darkly under their masks as they gossiped about the aftermath. 

_How distraught the royal family will be…_  
_They shall never relent their attacks now… _  
_Our victory is guaranteed…_ __

_____ _

_____ _

Link had never felt so distant from his kin. Shuffling through the dusty tunnels surrounded by such conversation only darkened his mood. Nearly every Yiga across Hyrule had reported back to witness the execution. Some believed Ganon himself would emerge upon her death. Some were simply satisfied at the idea of the goddess’s blood spilling across their sand. Link only followed his mother dutifully as they went to report to Zelda’s cell, entertaining the thought of losing himself in the crowd. 

Just as blindly as he had followed the Master’s instructions, however, his feet dragged along, the impending damnation of high noon creeping ever closer. The crowds thinned out as they approached the entrance of the dungeons, everyone now gathering expectantly around and above the cliffs surrounding the pit. Waiting for the procession that Link would soon be joining. 

For a brief moment, he was thankful to be somewhat alone. The dungeons provided a helpful sound barrier from the chaos above, the only sound now being the soft steps of his parents before him. The silence, however, quickly died as he noticed the small gathering outside of the princess’s cell. 

“...ime is almost here. All we need now is Blademaster Luries before we begin the procession.” Link recognized the tall form of Master Cadraz from behind, his arms crossed as he spoke to Stallade. The blademaster he addressed nodded in agreement, silent and stoic. The rest of the council were gathered as well, Kohga nearly poking his head through the bars while Yki and Peye discussed quietly amongst themselves. The most high ranked executioner in the clan, Sooga, stood dutifully at Kohga’s side in wait. One hand was on his windcleaver, as if the weakened Zelda would even attempt to attack him. They were all surrounded by a small count of footsoldiers. No more than decorative guards. 

“Well thankfully you don’t have to wait much longer, now do you?” Luries waved when the council members looked up. “It’s an important day. I wouldn’t dream of being late.”

“Nor would I dream of beginning without you.” Cadraz said as the three of them bowed to him. The other council members nodded their heads at their arrival with the exception of Sage Kohga. 

“Speak of Ganon.” Kohga called. He was about to return to pestering the princess when he noticed the presence of Link’s father. “Say, Master, isn’t it a little much for her lil’ Hylian to join us? This being a sacred ritual and all.”

“You hold your tongue, Sage. If he’s living through the Calamity he’s going through with the execution.” Luries waved him off. “Besides, I doubt Master Cadraz would mind, right?”

Link felt his body go rigid at _execution_. If the princess didn’t know what was happening, she surely did now. He leaned forward to get a glimpse of her at the cell, but she only sat silently in her same old corner. She stared blankly at the floor, eyes glazed over and her fists clenched.

“If it is what you wish.” He said though Link could detect a hint of strain in his voice. “Without your interrogation, we wouldn’t have had half of the information we managed to receive. I have no objection to Atalph joining our procession.”

Kohga crossed his arms and stepped away from the cell. “Hmph. Since we’re already insulting tradition, let’s just hurry it up, shall we?”

“Calm yourself.” Stallade shot him a calm glare. “Today must be savored, lest it is forgotten any time soon.”

“Eh. You’re right, I suppose.” The sage turned his lazy gaze to Master Cadraz. “Well? Are we getting this show on the road or what?”

“Of course. Sooga? If you will.” Cadraz nodded at the executioner.

“Yes, Master Cadraz.” The large man nodded quickly, before bending down and lifting the wooden bars. Zelda didn’t so much as stir from the noise, her gaze remaining trained on the ground. 

“Princess Zelda.” Cadraz spoke with his signature prowess. “Stand. Or you will be forced.” 

The princess didn’t look up at his voice. She did, however, press herself further into the corner, shoulders rising in defense. A wordless nod from the master sent two foot soldiers within the cell, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to her feet. Link felt his gut clench at the sight. Her wounds were still sensitive from last night. Such quick movement might cause the bandages to rupture, or for even new wounds to tear. Of course, such things wouldn’t be a problem. Not soon. 

“The bloodline of the goddess ends here.” Everyone in the dungeons could hear the wicked smile on his lips as he spoke. “The Calamity’s return is imminent. You will die before the first Hylian blood is spilled. What have you to say?”

For a moment, Zelda didn’t speak, only staring blankly back at the foreboding mask. Her weakened brow furrowed, her eyes squinting in contempt.

“Hylia is with me.” She said simply. “That is the only absolute.”

“We’ll see how helpful your _goddess_ is when you’re staring down the maw of Ganon.” His fist opened and closed like he had half a mind to slap her, but even he saw no use in needless violence. “Go forth. This ends now.”

The princess stumbled as the footsoldiers tugged her along, only tearing her gaze away from Cadraz to glance briefly at Link. That spark of knowing crossed her eyes again, but Link couldn’t find it in himself to smile. Her easy recognition of him would remain a mystery, it would seem. With her death, his anonymity would be easily reclaimed, even more so with the Calamity’s victory. As he fell into step with the rest of the procession, however, just behind her as he watched her walk to her death, was this really what he wanted?

The sky beyond the canyon yawned above him as the entourage stepped out of the cave and towards the pit. It was dismal and gray; the sun was sickly pale, a mere circle of light through the thick haze of clouds. A thin fall of snow descended to the ground, melting as soon as it touched the sands. The wind whistled above, its mocking laughter curling in Link’s ears as it dragged an opaque cloud to obscure the sun, dimming the land and freezing the air solid.

Perhaps it was mercy, shielding the bright eye of Hylia from watching her last descendent be brought to such a gruesome end.

The area around the sacred abyss was clear, the entirety of the Yiga Clan watching from the cliffs, some merely hanging onto the rock with their hands. Zelda was led to the edge of it, the foot soldiers forcing her onto her knees as Sooga took his position behind her, his hands behind his back to await the signal. Link and the others formed a square as Cadraz stood in the middle, the eye of his horned mask gazing at the muted sun. His mother stood up straight, a tight grip on her weapon, meanwhile Atalph merely folded his hands into his sleeves and let his long hair veil his face.

While the rest of them looked forward, Link couldn’t help but bring his gaze back to the damned princess. Shaking fists were hidden behind his back as an all-consuming sickness slammed into him like a tsunami. His words, his actions, his mistake brought this. It was all his fault. Why? Why didn’t he celebrate? At the cusp of liberation, he never felt more chained. _Why._

“10,000 years,” Cadraz began, cutting into Link’s thoughts. Everything seemed to still, the very world around them stopping to watch the slaughter of royalty. “10,000 years of hiding, training, planning, and dedication. Countless generations of thieves, warriors, and spies. All of them, all of it has led up to this moment.”

The master began to walk, sweeping his arm to the crowd that circled him. “This moment of a mistake ameliorated. This moment grew from revenge and pain. Pain that has endured the brutal amnesia of time, that lives with us. All of us suffer, just as our forefathers did, as we live in their ancient shadow.”

He stopped and curled his hands to his heart. “Our ancestors lost their homes, their freedom, their dreams of a bright future. Forced underground by the sanguinary blade of Hyrule, all for daring to stand up against them. While we may not rejoice in the blood of the chosen hero, the very man who carried out an endless catalog of bestial atrocities...we will celebrate the final descendant of those who ordered it.”

 _ **NO**_ was a word that flashed through Link’s mind like a bolt of lightning. Incomprehensibly fast, bright, torrid, gone immediately. It nearly startled him out of formation, but he held his posture. 

Cadraz walked back to the center, approaching Zelda as he stretched his arms skyward. Link’s heart only beat quicker. “Can you feel it? Every soul of the Yiga has gathered with the living today, ancient and recent, distant predecessors and our own mothers and fathers. They smile with us as foregone revenge will finally be realized. When the sword draws the blood of the goddess, we will secure our freedom, our purpose, and most importantly, the return of Calamity Ganon.”

Invisible eyes of acrimony bore into him like the nails of a feral animal, teeth sinking into every inch of his body. They hated him to his very bone. Link looked towards the princess again. His hands shook harder. _No_ flashed through again, and his blood pumped even faster.

Cadraz stopped in front of her, holding a fist to the heavens. “Whether or not Lord Ganon rises as soon as the princess is killed, know that the forces of oppression and the treasonous maggots who collaborate with them will be extirpated from this land. Hyrule will be lustrated in cleansing flames, the world reborn to serve its rightful king, the lord of all hatred and darkness, the harbinger of revenge!”

Tremors rippled through Link, so much that his parents took notice. Luries gave a hum of concern, and Atalph lifted his head with furrowed brows. Ragged, suppressed pants escaped him. That thing kicked and thrashed at his ribcage, fighting to free itself. More unintelligible words, screams, yelling in his mind, a cacophony of clicks and commands he couldn’t understand. The end was upon him. The air was closing in on him. Suffocating.

Why, why, _why?_

He turned, pointing a finger to the princess’s defiant glare. “At last, you will feel the odium of the fallen in the bite of our blade. Executioner!” Cadraz raised his hand, and Sooga mirrored him with his windcleaver, the point piercing the sun. “Spill the divine blood upon our lands! Cut the thread of the royal lineage, and bring forth our _**LIBERATION!**_ ”

Then, it was like the moon eclipsing the sun.

The discordant voices became one, silent but stentorian. Foreign but lucid. Abhorred but adored. It broke free. It had a form, it finally had a name. A shield. A sentinel. A protector. 

Against his will, yet still, by his own decision, Link’s hand bolted for the grip of his windcleaver. As the sword of the executioner swung down, time slowed to a crawl as his legs pivoted and sprinted towards the gleaming blade. Vision narrowed, deaf to the world around him. Nothing else mattered except deflecting the killing blow. 

The expressionless mask of Sooga stared down at him as Link finally drew his own blade, and the metal sang between their intercepting weapons. 

Their shrill cry echoed through his mind. The cold, laughing wind roared louder and louder, hotter and hotter. The world blurred and brightened, darkening at the same time. He felt like he was being dragged backward, downwards, deeper and deeper across the fabric of reality itself. 

Suddenly, he could see. A land consumed by flames and darkness, a crescent moon high above, smoke and ash rising into the sky as clashing steel echoed in between the fire’s roar. Grunts of soldiers and cries of death were smothered by the din of war. 

Link’s own hands, now gripping a flawless silver blade and an invincible shield, parried a swipe from someone’s sword impeccably. Sweat clung to his skin, both from the fire’s heat and the specter of death coming so close. The reaper itself shining in the reflection of her blade. Staring into the inverted eye of treason marred with earrings of a boar’s tusks, the anonymous soldier only gasped as she lost her footing. The red-clad traitor stumbled backward from the force, and then, with a strong kick to the chest, she was sent rolling across the ground. Her mask ripped off and tumbled into a mud puddle. Once alabaster tresses were caked in dirt and blood as it tangled in her limbs.

This was his body, but it wasn’t. This was his thoughts, in his own language, yet it was foreign all the same. Link was merely a spectator, yet the eyes he viewed this...whatever this was, from felt so familiar, so right, as though they were his own.

Grunts sounded through the clashing noise, the fallen adversary gripped her sword - a windcleaver - and pushed herself back up. Long white hair, glaring red eyes, face smeared with mud. She was unfamiliar to Link, but then the voice came through, his thoughts, this person’s thoughts. Whoever he was, a name burned in his mind with blazing clarity.

_Yiga. Finally, you show yourself._

In a split second, Yiga raised her hand to her face, two fingers up, and she was gone. Heartbeats began to pound in his ears, the flaming town spinning as he turned in circles. It came to a halt when a gust of air was felt behind him, and Link pivoted his feet to meet her strike. His sword swung to clash in the middle, but Yiga quickly feigned the other way to slice his fighting arm in a downward cut. At just the right moment, he managed to jump out of the way.

The world slowed, and with it came more of her sneering face. Link wanted to talk to her, Master Yiga in the flesh, for help and guidance. Surely, if this was truly her, she would listen. To one of her descendants. However, his throat was unworking, his own voice didn’t come through. His arms were locked in this conflict. He really was just a spectator.

Their dance continued, their battle melting into the cacophony of death and blood-stained steel. Yiga’s desperation started to shine, more risky moves taken with her windcleaver as her teeth bared like a wolf, her eyes growing in their endless hatred for everything he stood for. 

It became a battle of attrition as their weapons met in a cross, sparks flying as they pushed their swords against each other. Link’s heels dug into the ground as he kept pressing back from Yiga’s force. _If that windcleaver of hers breaks through, my head will roll,_ the voice said, his own thoughts in his own mind.

“You dog,” Yiga hissed through her teeth as she suddenly put more weight into her blade, causing Link to stagger back. “We were all foolish to trust a barbarian who knows nothing but bloodlust. Your throat should’ve been cut open a long time ago, like the feral animal you are. I can smell the rotting flesh of my brothers on your precious sword.”

It wasn’t just Link. The man who he saw this through couldn’t speak, but he seemed to be at ease with that. He could only reply to the woman with a glare. _The one who swore allegiance to a monstrous beast of darkness has no right to call me a savage,_ he thought. 

She relented her assault, abruptly swinging her sword back to make a swipe at his legs. It was interrupted by the shield, bouncing off with a shattering clang, and she moved into a defensive position when Link pointed his blade at her. A blade emblazoned with the triforce.

“Hah! Do you think we’ll ever give up? Give up and bow to you once more?” she growled, hiking a lip up to spit at the ground. “You burned our homes, stole our freedom, destroyed our dreams. You took _everything_ from us without a second thought. You are nothing but a blind pet to the royal family!”

 _This will end here!_ the man thought like fire as he took a charge, positioning his sacred blade to pierce her chest. Yiga stood for a moment, as though she was almost accepting the killing blow from him, until she raised her hands, and disappeared. 

It was obvious to Link, this was another teleportation tactic, to meet from behind for an underhanded strike. Yet, she did not emerge. He didn’t let his guard down until he heard a shout from the other side of the flames. 

_**“Insurgents, retreat! The Hyrulean army is surrounding us! Evacuate now, find the master and follow her!”** _

Slips of the inverted eyes began to fill the air as turncoat Sheikah withdrew. _Hyrulean army arrived...maybe she came with them,_ he thought with a smile, a blooming deep within. Inappropriate really, Link wanted to say to him, such thoughts in a burned down village filled with death. But, the man couldn’t help himself it seemed. 

“Link!” a woman shouted behind him, a voice that grew that blooming in his heart. His name...they shared names?

 _This_ Link turned around dutifully to meet a woman of more familiar, yet unfamiliar looks. The princess no doubt, her golden hair decorated with shining jewelry, white dress unstained by the carnage around them. 

A grin gracing his face, he took a step forward to greet her back, until he was forced to stop.

The princess’s face fell into a silent scream, his shield and sword dropped to the ground. He looked to his stomach, to see a windcleaver in its entirety, dripping with blood.

A hand grabbed his chin, and a voice growled into his ear. “Our hatred will follow you forever. We will emerge victorious, no matter how long we must wait. And once Ganon has risen and you lay dead to my children’s hands...I. will. _laugh._ ”

The blade twisted with numbing pain flooding his entire soul, and sliced through to his side, nearly cutting him in half. The screams and cries of dismay didn’t reach his ears, he couldn’t feel when his knees slid to the ground, his very life essence pooling out of his body. He was turned over onto his back to see the princess’s anguished face, her cheeks already glistening with rolling tears.

He still couldn’t hear, neither of them could. It wasn’t even ringing in his ears, merely the silence of the end. A faint feeling of her sobbing into his chest as his heart slowed came through the numbness. Sadly, there wasn’t enough strength left to return that embrace. To put a hand on her head was too much of a feat for the body, if not the heart.

 _Someday,_ words that he, the true soul of this body, wished he could speak, for once in this life. _I’ll come back...I will return to you._

_No matter how long it takes._

Laughter.

Link, in his own body and mind, could hear it. There was no one else with him anymore, yet a sense of unity and everything fitting into place kept him company. For the first time in months, he felt at peace with himself. 

Laughter. Shrill, shrieking laughter echoed through once the darkness had settled. It was hoarse, on the verge of coughing. It didn’t stop.

The mask of Sooga stared back at him, but now it was obscured by harsh golden light. It was as though the true might of the sun stood on earth as the laughter continued. Right in front of Link, shining bright enough to blind him. It eased, revealing its true form.

On his hand, beaming through the red of his uniform, was an aureate triangle, burning like fire.

Suddenly, his mask was ripped off and sent across the sand. Sooga seized his wrist and twisted it, making Link drop his windcleaver. He forced him around to see the crowd stunned, still like corpses.

The faceless, motionless figures of Cadraz, his teacher, his mother.

Atalph, eyes wide, mouth agape, his entire body trembling.

Upon the cliffs, the priestess. She was laughing.

Sooga’s voice boomed across the canyon, “Behold at last, **the face of the Hero!** ”


	9. Chapter 9

There’s little to do when blinded.

Shouts began to surround Link as he felt sand turn to stone, the masked executioner dragging him by the wrists through the hideout’s tunnels. Voices overlapping each other with echoing clamor brought his ears ringing. Link’s mind was wrapped in thick wool as he merely let himself be towed over sharp rocks. The triforce on his hand was gone, the light fleeting like snow under the sun, yet the pulsing feeling in his heart felt like a knife in the stomach. Such sudden inner peace only brought turmoil.

Tendrils of rotting odor seemed to manifest in the air. An ancient stench of decaying flesh poured into Link’s lungs as he neglected to breathe. The grand foe of the Yiga, the one who sent them into hiding, who had slain hundreds if not possibly thousands of their ancestors...it was him, since the day he was born. That accursed day. They even shared names. His hands were soaked in his own people’s blood and tears, in ash and mud. He was a murderer, down to his very bones. 

Doors burst open and the warm air of the hideout dropped away to blowing gales and gelid air. The same feeling came again; sharp hooks of hatred bore into his skin, and Link was forced onto his knees as Sooga quickly tied a knot around his wrists. Looking up, he saw the mask of the first master staring right back. Her hair billowed and swelled like a hissing cobra as the wind howled and cackled. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the living master, even when he stood in the middle to look at his predecessor as well. 

The second the doors to the council room were closed, someone started to bang on the wood in ardent desperation, a woman yelling, “Let me in! Master Cadraz, you can’t do this to us! He can’t be left alone in this!” A sharp gasp inward with another loud slam. “Open these doors! I won’t let you-”

Stallade loudly drew his sword, and responded with a clang of his own. “Luries, if you don’t back away this instance, I won’t hesitate to slice his head off _and_ gut your pathetic excuse of a husband like a writhing fish right in front of you! Go home now, or I will uphold that promise!”

Silence fell instantly, only the sound of hard breathing left as Luries was suddenly quiet. Whether or not she actually left or merely muted herself, he couldn’t tell. Link’s teacher didn’t seem to care as he sheathed the windcleaver, grumbling, “I should’ve killed that man the moment he was dragged down here…”

Peye was turned away, towards the carvings of the hero’s crimes, while Yki stormed back and forth. The former was mumbling under her breath, the latter was ranting to herself. “-but when my daughter tried to do the deed _NOOOO_ she must be demoted to a mere ARCHER clearly she just wanted to kill him out of prejudice of course of course you are _so_ right! Mother of an attempted murderer you are Yki! Where’s that flawless record of undefeated blademasters Yki! Yki did your mother predict this after all she is the crazy séance lady WOW haha-”

Kohga crossed his arms as he stepped up to Cadraz. “Hmph! Nothing to say, Master? Where’s your leadership, eh? Are you gonna-”

“ _Silence,_ all of you.” Authoritative and clipped, a true voice of a Yiga master made everyone go still. With a single wave of the hand, Sooga nodded and left the frigid council room, mists of their breaths disappearing into the shadows above. Cadraz didn’t turn around, still gazing at the ancient corpse as everyone looked to him.

“Give us the order and we’ll kill him now,” Peye said as she gripped her weapon and stepped to Link’s side. He didn’t even flinch. This was another nightmare, right? No way, no possibility the goddess’s own hero would be born to such darkness. He shut his eyes. Wake up.

“No such order will be given.” Cadraz breathed out. “Not now.”

“Not _now?_ What’s the matter with you?!” Kohga nearly shrilled. “Master Yiga is right there! She would love to see him die in front of her!”

In front of her, again. A sharp pain bloomed in Link’s stomach. How her sword pierced his body. He could almost hear her whispering, just beneath the wind, all of her festering rancor and bright glee. They all hated him. The teachers, the peers he studied with, the figures of history he idolized, his family. They all wanted him dead.

Cadraz shook his head. “The descendent of Hylia and her precious hero will die together with all eyes watching, living and dead. The hero’s soul and the goddess’s blood will be given to Ganon to be consumed, rather than a quick execution here where it doesn’t matter. That is my final decree, and I won’t have it challenged.”

The sage put his hands on his hips. “I don’t think so! All of Master Yiga’s surviving writings order us to kill our enemies as soon as their throats are in our grasp, which means we kill this little half-breed hero right now!”

A groan sounded from Peye. “Of all people, why am I agreeing with Kohga…”

Stallade clenched a fist. “We are at the cusp of victory, our liberation is long overdue. Master Cadraz, with all due respect, take Kohga’s word and kill Link now. We don’t have time for theatrics.”

Yki stayed silent, but Kohga flourished with the surprising support from the two advisors. He nearly spoke again until Cadraz turned around sharply.

“Listen to me, Sage, the rest of you too,” Cadraz commanded. “I put my foot down. It will not be challenged, it will not be swayed. Every member born to our clan deserves to witness this moment, and I won’t have it any other way. I am the master, I was blessed by Ganon to win against Master Royos all those years ago, and until someone slices my throat open for this title, my word is final. Do you understand?”

Tension was high, a pulled string ready to snap at any moment. The council was tight-lipped, paralyzed as the forefathers watched with their dead eyes. Yki let out a heavy huff of air, still wordless as she threw the doors open and stormed out. Peye bowed stiffly and followed her.

Kohga put a hand to his chin, brought it up as he was about to speak, but then left, with a certain air to his gait.

“Blademaster Stallade, take Link to the prisons. I command it.”

A pause. 

“As you wish, Master.”

It was clear that Stallade hated Link. The little consideration of comfort as he was slung over his shoulder like a putrefying carcass, meant to be thrown out. His teacher didn’t even let out a grunt. Wind spoke his venomous words. Link could hear them long ago.

Though there was some mercy in Stallade’s soul. He walked a brisk pace as the crowd parted to let him through. No time for theatrics, and this was kept true. The crowd of masks went by Link in a blur, nothing but red, white, and black smears against flickering lanterns. He didn’t need to see their faces. He already knew.

However, someone stood out. With matching hair and eyes, a face out in the open, without the usual specter that always stood by him. Atalph caught eye contact with his son, and it all slowed. Just as before, Link couldn’t decipher him, every part of his visage contradicting. Shock, worry, fear, confusion, some emotions that couldn’t be named all warred across his eyes and brows.

One thing was clear. Atalph didn’t hate him.

Suddenly, Link was thrown against stone, and the sound of wood sliding and clicking clawed at his ears. Stallade was beyond the bars, his silhouette as black as the sacred pit. He quickly secured the lock, and looked to Link one more time.

“It is for Ganon’s sake we do this. Liberation stands above all. Understand that, and you may die with honor.”

Link had no voice to respond. He watched as the shadow of his former teacher left his line of sight. Never again would he be looked upon with more value than a speck of dust. He was the enemy. The murderous creature. One of _them._

His heart suddenly seized in his chest, sending his already weak knees crumbling to the dirt. Sweat fused his uniform to his body like sap, and fresh panic held his breath captive. His entire life, his memories, his family… it was all for nothing. He had laughed with them, fought with them, trained with them. Yet he was the reason they fought in the first place, landing them in hiding all those years ago. 

His fists, clammy and cold behind his back, opened and closed like the mouth of a dying fish. Though, what they reached for, he couldn’t quite say. His windcleaver was far out of reach, likely still laying in the sand of the execution grounds. The mark of the hero still prickled on the back of his left hand, a tingling, insatiable itch. He had half a mind to wrench the cursed hand from his wrist, as if tossing the limb would be tossing the soul of the hero. Even in the deepest of desperations he couldn’t entertain this dream. To kill the hero would bring on the end of his own life. 

The feeling of hard ground on his forehead was as foreign to him as the light within him. A Yiga’s mask was their shelter, their livelihood. It shielded them from the outside, the pain, the plight. In a way, his mask was his home. A home that now sat abandoned in the sand.

_You should at least face your final hours with some pride._

For the first time in what felt like hours, he blinked. It was a slow, deliberate movement, lashes clearing any dirt that had collected from his fall. His ability to think slowly returned, easing him off the floor and sliding down the broad wall of his cell. The rough bite of rock was still barely felt through his suit, however. With nothing else to grab, his fingers chipped absentmindedly at the wall. Nothing awaited him past the next midday. Not an afterlife, not a salvation, simply… nothing. 

The binds at his wrists were haphazard. A simple tug in the right direction and they would fall like snakes to the floor. Yet… his arms remained still. There would be no escape for him. 

He could only feel as though this was his fate. 

Like he had done all those days ago, his eyes went to watch the flames spiral off of their torches. It had been an unbearable task once, the endless flickers of red rising up, only to disappear as they strayed too far away. He could spend a lifetime watching them now. Rising… fading… rising…

There was a rustle through the wall. A voice.

“Yiga… that is you, isn’t it?”

Was that the princess speaking to him? It couldn’t be. The execution was today, wasn’t it? Whatever could’ve postponed it?

“Yiga, _please_.”

The embers rose and fade, rose and fade. 

“ _Link_.”

He snapped back into his body upon the one single word. His head craned on its own volition to the wall in which the voice had come from. Nothing but dull, empty rock stared back. But behind it… he could sense her presence already, like hearing a sweet melody from a distance. 

“Princess.” His voice came out low and scared. A boy’s voice.

Zelda sighed from her cell, seated just next to his and out of view. 

“Thank the Goddess. I feared that they had already killed you.” She said. Her own voice was relaxed, yet firm, as if she was only shaken by her brush with death. 

“You’re alive.” He answered quite plainly, slowly scooting over to lean as close to the wall as he could. 

“And are you.” She said as if it were obvious. “It seems we’ve both cheated Ganon’s reach. Fate has chosen a different course, for now. I suspected such a thing would be so yet… it came not from within myself but from you, Link… the Hero…”

“ _Don’t._ ” Link surprised himself with how quickly the word tumbled out of his mouth, almost like a gag reflex. With how quickly the outburst had been, he didn’t doubt that the princess had jumped as well. He tried to take a breath, but they came as consistently as a Lanayru storm. “Don’t… don’t say… I’m not… he’s not… he’s a murderer.”

Zelda was nearly stunned to silence. She took a careful breath, piecing her words together slowly. “You, well, the Yiga… you resent the Hero.”

“He’s… I’m everything we’re against.” His eyes widened in terror as he recalled all the ancient writings detailing the atrocities the Hero (in other words, _he_ ) had committed countless generations ago. The weapon of the royal family. The harbinger of their genocide. “I forced us here, I-I killed _hundreds_ , I-”

The cell was beginning to grow hot. He drew empty, shallow breaths as reality settled in. Was this Ganon’s punishment for the extent of his crimes? Forced to live among those he slaughtered only to be revealed as their killer, put down like a demon and roasted on a pyre. He ground the side of his head into the wall, tears refusing to fall. 

“Why me,” he murmured, “why, why, _why_.”

“Link!” Zelda gasped, powerless to rush through and comfort him. “You’re not making any sense! What are you saying?”

“My life prevents the Calamity.” He spoke softly. “For the good of the Yiga, I must…”

“Which is exactly why you must stay alive!” Zelda cried in exasperation. “Listen to me! We can stop it! _You_ can stop it! The Hero’s soul revealed itself because it knew defeating Ganon lied in your destiny! It doesn’t have to end for you here. _Hyrule_ doesn’t have to end here.”

“And for what? Thousands of more years of death, hiding, unending war for my people. You forget the Calamity is not something to be stopped.” Link stared harshly at the wall as if Zelda could see his face. Yet, he found it hard to believe even his own words. “If I was born a sacrifice so be it. Liberation stands above all.”

Link swallowed as he found himself repeating Stallade’s words. Would the choice be so easy for him if he were in the same position? If any of the council members were faced with the same problem as he?

Zelda had fallen silent on her side of the wall, even her breaths undetectable. He remained just as still, slowly pressing his ear against the rock for any sign of life. Perhaps she had given up, just as he ought to do, but another slow breath in disproved that.

“My knowledge on your culture is shamefully lacking,” she began, “but even in the face of death I wish to know more. Calamity Ganon… why do your people revere him so?”

Link cocked his head at the question. It was obvious the princess was curious about everything unknown around her, yet even still the inquiry had come as a surprise.

“ _From the shadow of the skeleton tree grows its saplings_.” Link recited one of the first proverbs detailing the Calamity. “The Yiga carry the verse like it’s a part of our hearts. The Calamity will bring ruin to Hyrule, yes, but from her wiped land we will rise, bringing new life to the husk that is left behind. A reward for thousands of years of fealty.”

“A new home.” Zelda echoed, and for a moment, sounded enamored with the idea herself.

“A place to walk through the sunshine without fear. A place without needing to hide. Without needing to change.” He mused. Many nights his mother had tucked him into bed detailing such a place. Somewhere they could all be together without fear. As quickly as the fond memory had come however, it dissipated.

“A place I’ll never get to see.” He muttered, eyes half lidded as he went to watch the torches again.

“I see…” Zelda said, her voice distant like she was lost in thought. “Your people are angry, matching the rage of Calamity Ganon. The only one who can give you what you truly want.”

“And I’m keeping them from paradise.” He answered. “In the name of Ganon it’s the right thing to do yet…”

The princess did not continue this time. She waited behind the wall, her regal, patient stare practically cutting through the stone. He swallowed. The descendant of the goddess truly did harbor the same wisdom in which she was famed. 

“I don’t want to die, princess.” His voice echoed softly throughout the dungeon. Quiet, small, and afraid.

Zelda’s voice answered back, as reassuring as a sunrise. 

“You don’t have to.”

It was a simple proposal, yet one so outlandish that Link nearly felt shaken by the pure shock. He lifted his head from where it hung. The embers on the torches no longer resembled a bloody light, but rather a new life. Constantly burning, yielding to nothing. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice seeming to come from someone else. 

“If you wish to live, then live. You don’t have to wait for your slaughter like a boar.” Zelda said. “You have just as much control over your life as they do, if not more. You just need to take the reins.”

“But where would I go? The Yiga would never give up looking for me. Never.” He said. “The Yiga are not without defectors. They typically lasted a few months before dying in the hunt. How would it be any different with me?”

“You are… well… you have the Hero’s soul. The nobility of Hyrule will ensure your utmost safety, as they have mine.” She said. “Though your status as a member of the Yiga clan may be off putting to them at first, they will certainly come to trust you once they witness your capabilities.”

That damned word again. Hero. A legend living amongst the people he once killed. A life of injustice.

“I can’t.” He said. Zelda took in a breath from the other side of the wall, but allowed him to continue. “My people live a life of shame and solitude. Every struggle we face is the direct result of my actions. I can’t live knowing that. I’m sorry, princess.”

Zelda didn’t speak for what felt like several minutes, taking in careful breaths as she considered her response.

“You know nothing of the Hero.” She said. “He was a tyrant as you say, but he has also been a farmhand, a forest dweller, a knight. He’s been you. No two lives of the hero’s soul are the same. And if it’s justice you truly worry about, your justice was dealt with when you were felled by your very founder.”  
Link could only sit with his jaw dropped, Zelda’s voice clanging like a bell in his mind. The Hero was him, that part was undeniable. Yet, was the hero really him? Could he truly right the wrongs of his past through living?

“Do you truly believe that we’ll be able to change things?” He asked softly, the weak spot in the ropes becoming increasingly obvious. “That I can get us out?”

“I do.” Zelda said. “But you must believe it yourself should we succeed.”

Her words were no longer a bell. They were a siren. A deafening roar in his ears to act. The same voice that told him to run out to bring her in alive, to stop the interrogation, to run out during the execution. It was back. And now it was louder than ever. 

Escaping the ropes was easy from there. He had sensed the flaw in them the moment that Sooga had tied them in haste. With one pull they fell around him, his arms surprisingly sore for the little time they had spent behind his back. Pain could wait, however. He stashed the ropes into a far corner before standing, his knees aching despite his limited captivity. Perhaps his own body couldn’t accept his new reality. The body that trained as a Yiga, that knew all their techniques and customs. But he wasn’t truly Yiga. As his peers had reminded him all his life, he was nothing but a half breed. A Hylian. 

Thoughts for another day. If another day awaited him. 

He closed his eyes and raised two fingers to his face. _Just a quick jump away. Zelda’s cell. Zelda._ The teleportation went through before he was truly ready, sending him stumbling out of a plume of smoke on the other side of the wall. He tripped over his own feet, only catching his fall by slamming onto the hard stone of Zelda’s cell.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” He mumbled as he steadied himself upright again, brushing away any pebbles that had embedded into his face.

“I never expected a blademaster to be so clumsy.” Zelda said from behind, a smile evident through her voice. 

“Would you believe I’ve won a ceremonial rite?” Link asked, flopping his back onto the stone. 

Zelda was seated against the opposite wall, her ear just now peeling itself from the rock in which she had been speaking through. Despite the imprisonment, the torture, the near execution, that same glow she had seen at Gerudo Town still remained. The blood of the Goddess definitely ran through her veins. That much was evident as her soft smile faded, turning into a bright eyed look of wonder.

“I should have known it was you from the start.” She spoke softly. “That aura… I’ve felt it ever since I walked into that throne room.”

Link found it painful to half smile back, his fists tightening at the reminder of his true identity. 

“I suppose that explains the funny looks you were giving me.” He said, sliding down to squat against the wall. 

“I hope you didn’t take any offence to them. I was simply wondering… why? Why this Yiga?” She shook her head with a scoff. Her gaze shot up with curiosity again, eyes sparkling. “If you don’t mind me asking, what is this ceremonial rite you mentioned? Its cultural significance? Its origin?”

“That’s a story for another time, I’m afraid.” Link said. “If we get the chance. For now, the best thing we can do is plan for the most discreet escape. Here, I’ll undo your ropes for you.”

Minutes bled into hours after Link undid their bonds, the two bouncing every possible method and chance of escape off of each other. He needed a weapon, a mask, and a distraction. 

It would seem that their very late guard would provide just that.

It was well past midnight when footsteps echoed from down the dungeon corridor, the swing of a whistle weaving through the heavy steps. Link’s breath hitched immediately when he recognized the sound. Syhl. His former troop leader. How much treachery could he fill in one day? There wasn’t much time to consider it.

He and Zelda pressed themselves to the closest wall to his cell, his hands already prepared to initiate a teleport. The princess only risked a breath every few moments, her heartbeat only growing faster at the blademaster’s approach. 

Only a few steps away now. Link grit his teeth, ready to phase out. Yet, the footsteps stopped. It was completely silent for those horrible few seconds, no one uttered a single breath. Finally, like a spring wind, Syhl sighed. Almost like he was hesitant to face his former fellow blademaster. His words began as soon as his steps did and stopped just as abruptly. 

“Link, I was sent here to-” He nearly choked as he spotted the empty cell, the bundle of rope in the corner. That was his signal. “The shit?!”

With as much speed as Link could muster, he teleported behind the blademaster, bringing the butt of his fist down on the back of his head. He had never attempted to incapacitate another with his bare hands before. The pommel of the wind cleaver usually made quick work of that. Now, here he was, swinging his hands like some crazed goron. 

If it weren’t for Syhl’s own lousy footing, the plan would have all been in vain. 

The tall blademaster was sent stumbling by the blow, cracking his head on the stiff, wooden bars of the cell. With a weakened grunt and no more words to say, the felled blademaster collapsed like dead weight onto the dirt. As his head met the ground, his mask tore itself from its place on his face, rolling a few feet away before clattering to a halt. It was over in a matter of seconds. Had Link not been the Hero, Syhl might have actually been impressed by that sneak attack. It almost made him second guess if he truly wanted to follow through with this.

 _No._ He assured himself. _What’s done is done. There’s no going back now._

“Did it work?” Zelda pressed her face as far as she could through the bars, her gaze slowly traveling from the mask to the now exposed face of the blademaster. “Oh… is… is he…?”

“Just unconscious.” Link assured her. “This is the quickest way to get what I need.”

 _Though I doubt he’ll take it kindly_ , he thought glumly. 

Syhl’s brow was still furrowed from the hit, though Link could tell he would be out for quite a while. Even so, he needed to work fast. 

“Forgive me, Syhl.” Link mumbled, not particularly caring for formalities as he untied the Yiga’s wind cleaver from his waist. It took careful coordination of the fingers, but soon he was slipping it off, making quick work of attaching it to his own waist. The loss of a weapon was akin to the loss of a loved one. This very sword had been personally forged upon the blademaster’s rite victory, yet… “It will be returned safely to you one day. You have my word.”

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it any longer as he turned to Zelda, still gripping at the bars like a lifeline. “Step back. We need to move him quickly before any other guards come.”

Without much care, Link was unlatching the bars and lifting them up, allowing the princess to walk freely for the first time in a week. Even with his haste, he eyed her with concern as she stood with wobbly knees. The spell was short however, and soon Zelda was pulling down the bars again with her own, albeit wavering strength. 

Link quickly went to unlatch the bars to his own cell, paying no mind as the princess squatted down to observe the blademaster. It was only then did he feel a gut wrenching wave of sympathy for the man. Years of isolation, of careful strategizing, only for his identity to be revealed as a result of a fluke. It was worse than death for most.

He would never know.

“White hair.” Zelda muttered, looking almost tempted to touch the locks that had fallen over his face. “I assume this is the case for all the Yiga, yes? Well, all except you, of course.”

“You’d be correct on that front.” He said, walking swiftly to collect Syhl’s mask. The weight of it in his hand slowed him for a moment. Did he really expect to leave the hideout without one? He quickly shoved the thought away and settled the mask gently back onto Syhl’s face. If stealing a Yiga’s weapon was taking their heart, stealing their mask was taking their soul. He would inflict no such burden on the man that had almost been like a brother to him. “We...or _they_ I suppose, have no physical difference from the Sheikah. You’d think ten thousand years would change a thing or two, but here we stand. Now, do you think you can pick up his legs?”

Zelda nodded and hooked her arms beneath his knees, stumbling along as Link hauled his torso into the cell. They laid him on his back in the center, Link securing his wrists quite loosely with the rope before stepping back. He felt almost inclined to him, to impart him with his final apologies, but time was short. They needed to leave now. 

_I hope you find it in yourself to forgive me, Syhl_. Link thought as he brought the bars back down. The windcleaver pulsed almost angrily at his hip, like it was objecting to its new owner. In the end, it was only a blade. A blade that yielded to whoever had the strength to hold it. With one final look at the blademaster he sighed and turned to Zelda, face stoney and cold. 

“We’ll leave through the storage rooms.” Link said, instinctively reaching out his hand for hers. “There are little guards there, even less on big events such as this. I can only imagine the execution has everyone everywhere other than where their posts are.”

“Of course.” Zelda nodded, never even glancing at his outstretched hand. “From there I assume you can guide us through the desert. Urbosa would be more than happy to allow us entry.”

“Then there’s no time to waste.” Link resigned his hand to ushering her forward, breaking into a silent jog down the hallway. He doubted the Princess’ ability to keep pace, but sighed in relief when he realized she was just a few steps behind. He could only pray that she would be able to be just as inconspicuous.

The tunnels of the hideout never failed to confuse him. Even as a child, he would spend countless hours trying to memorize even the most discreet of corridors, only to come up fruitless every time. Now, creeping through the shadow with a stolen prisoner in tow, he could only curse himself for not trying harder. He slinked closely to the edge of the wall, his footfalls making no noise after years of training. Zelda followed, albeit her steps not as muted as his, but followed nonetheless. His prediction on the main corridors being empty had thankfully been correct, every Yiga likely gathered in each other’s homes and celebrating their guaranteed salvation.

It was a blessing that the tunnel to the storage room was nowhere near the housing corridors.

The large crates containing their countless supply of bananas finally came into view as Link led her through the final archway. The torches were dim, half of the light coming from the reflective prayer slips pasted to every inch of the crates. Just across the room, several feet away, was the moongate to Karusa Valley. Escape.

“Is that…?” Zelda could barely contain her excitement, the two of them having stopped in their tracks at the sight of it.

“It is.” He nodded. “Still, keep quiet. We aren’t out of the clear until we reach Gerudo Town.”

Zelda only nodded in confirmation at that. Still, despite his own advice, Link picked up his pace, two pairs of soft footsteps now echoing across the storage room. 

He cursed softly at the noise, slowing down just enough to quiet his footfalls again. The sound continued. Frowning, he stopped in his tracks entirely, shooting out an arm to keep Zelda from passing as well.

“What is-” She cut herself off with a hand, eyes slightly widening when she realized why he had stopped. They were halted in their tracks, yet the footsteps still continued, soft and consistent. And coming this way.

Link had his hand on the wind cleaver before he even turned to face them, pivoting on his feet and nearly unleashing a whirlwind upon whoever was approaching from their left. However, when blue eyes met blue, he could only gape in shock.

Atalph stood at the end of the storage room, a Yiga’s mask in hand. Alone. And standing just in the way of their escape. Link stood simply shocked for a moment. He had never seen his father outside of the house alone for the entirety of his life. Was his mother injured? Near?

There was no time to dwell on it. Only act. Atalph stood completely still, cradling the mask like it was an eggshell. _His_ mask. Did he intend to taunt him? To waver his attempts at leaving? But if so, how could he have even known he was going to escape?

There was no time to consider it. Link needed to act before his father did, even if he had not done any harm to him yet. 

In a move just faster than a blink, Link exploded into a gust of smoke and prayer slips, reappearing just behind his father with his blade raised to exact the same move he had to Syhl unto him. The wind cleaver didn’t even get to move an inch. 

Atalph turned in an instant, grabbing Link’s arm before he could strike and stopping him in his tracks. With another move he twisted his arm, the blade clattering to the ground as Link tried to suppress a cry. The shock hurt more than anything else, the sheer speed and calmness that his father had managed to stop his attack rattling him to his core. It was no secret that he was a former member of the Hylian army…but this, this tactic and its perfect execution, was something else entirely.

“Link!” Zelda attempted to guise her scream as a whisper. It was only then did Atalph turn to her, his dull eyes watching as she took a step back from the fear. Even so, she balled her fists, hissing as she said, “You will release him at once.”

Slowly, Atalph’s gaze returned to him, staring down at his only son. They were one in the same at that moment. Both imprisoned, both drenched in fear for what awaited them in the future. Both warriors. Only one would be escaping tonight. This was decided as he released Link’s wrist gently and passed the mask into his awaiting hands.

With a sad gleam in his eye and a downturned brow, he smiled. 

Link could barely speak. The mask in his hands felt like a weight, a burden to be shouldered only by him. A burning, unanswerable question.

“Why?” He asked, unable to look away from the only other blue eyes he had ever known. It was with a slow, careful gesture did his father pull him in, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Link returned the hug with shaking arms and wide eyes. “ _Why?_ ”

Atalph pulled away after a few more seconds, taking in the last he would likely ever see of his son. 

“I’ve remembered my duty.” He spoke. An aged, tired sound. “You must learn yours.” 

He stepped aside and revealed Zelda to Link’s vision again, standing quite still with nothing but confusion on her face. Right. The escape. His father was allowing him to escape. He wished he had more to say, to hug him tighter and catch up on all the conversations they had ever missed, but the future lay ahead. And he would have to leave him behind to get there.

“Thank you, Father.” Link gave a bow as he pressed the mask back onto his face. Atalph bowed his head in return, hands folded over his front. 

“May Hylia protect you, my son.”

It was an odd saying, yet Link didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Quickly, he gestured for Zelda to follow. She ran up quickly, her eyes quickly going to Atalph before fixing back ahead as they dashed past. The crates passed by like wind as they ran, passing through the archway and into the desert night beyond. 

Atalph only stood and watched, already prepared for what fate awaited him.

**Author's Note:**

> A quick credit to PepperJam for working on this with me :)


End file.
